


When No Becomes Yes

by Anouk1988, Hikari89



Series: Let Me In Universe [2]
Category: Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Brutal and honest define Fred, Ella has obnoxious parents, F/M, Fred can analyze anyone but himself, Fred can be slow and dumb, Fred learns to be patient, Friendship, Gil & Fred at Uni, Gilbert tries dating, Guess who cooks and who washes the pots, Let Me In universe, Moping Gilbert, Not your regular Fred Wright
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:55:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 26,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29023077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anouk1988/pseuds/Anouk1988, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hikari89/pseuds/Hikari89
Summary: Fred Wright barely started university and things are already interesting, since he got assigned as roommate the saddest, most quiet boy of all of PEI. While trying to unravel the enigma that is Gilbert Blythe (while becoming his friend, because they will be friends and that's a fact), he decides to focus on his studies. Just his studies. He wants good theoretical foundations and will have plenty of time to date later.That is, until Blythe lets a cute architecture student share a table, surprising him not only because he talked to a girl, but because she is as intriguing as he is. Just maybe, in an opposite way. So now he needs to handle all the study, understand why Blythe is a mopping soul (he's half convinced it's a girl back home), and figure out a way to make Ella not fall in love with him. Maybe being honest will do the trick?This maybe could be read as a stand-alone story, but it wouldn't make full sense without Let Me In. Just so you know.
Relationships: Fred Wright / OC, Gilbert Blythe / Christine Stuart
Series: Let Me In Universe [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2126016
Comments: 59
Kudos: 50





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!
> 
> So, let's make this super clear: if you haven't read Let Me In, this won't make any sense to you. Not as a stand-alone story. There again, you could read this and then go read Let Me In so you understand who this Fred Wright will become some eight years after this story ends (you can find that story here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27568681/chapters/67434739)
> 
> This is just something like a character study, because I couldn't get out of my head how Fred would flirt. So as usual, we spoke until the wee hours of the morning, bounced ideas, read some minds, send back and forth half-written conversations.... and I wrote until my curiosity for the enigmatic secondary character of Let Me In had been fully satisfied at around 11,000 words. Hikari is just the best for indulging my curiosity and reigning my evilness.
> 
> So, this is part of the Let Me In universe, which can only mean... music! https://open.spotify.com/user/sakunanda/playlist/1KHL6Tit8b7JS4uXaTWjCI?si=aeEDwTsES9SAbnTHfjIyRQ

“Hi, I’m sorry… may I sit here?” Fred lifted his eyes from his text book at the same time as Blythe did. He blinked, looked at his friend. It was his call, really. He wasn’t the one shooing away every single person on campus. And off.

“Sure, go ahead,” Blythe said, picking up his mess on one side. Being nice as polite as he always was. Huh. Should have taken that into account. 

“I’m sorry, it’s just all the tables are taken... I won’t bother you guys,” the girl said as she sat down, pulling a book out of her bag. Blonde and overall pretty, her clothes were of neutral colors and great taste. At least in his opinion. Simple, minimal, so nice. She looked kind and quiet as well… and somewhat shy?

“I’m Fred. This is Blythe, even if he doesn’t look like it. And you are?” he finally asked, his curiosity getting the best of him. Because if Blythe was allowing a girl to sit with them, he had to catch her name. She could be somehow a keeper, another friend for Blythe. And they could use to hang out with more people since he always refused to go out with him on the weekends.

“Ella Weiss,” she said. “Is your name actually Blythe?”

“Last name. Name’s Gilbert,” he mumbled, before going back to his book. So long for making a new friend. 

“Forgive him, please. He’s a lonely soul. Which I should be drilling with anatomy questions,” he explained. Ella raised her eyebrows, nodded and opened her book. Clearly she also had studying to do. He glimpsed at the cover.  _ Ah. Corbusier. _ “Blythe, name the kind of tissues you can find in the spleen and their functions.”

And so they carried on for a while, the girl just sitting quietly reading her book, small frown in her forehead, absent-mindedly unrolling the edges of the paper coffee cup after she finished it. Blythe, of course, was oblivious about her, after having surprised him by allowing her to share the table. Ignoring her as he did with every single female in the campus. He really needed to understand who the hell could have broken his heart in such a way for him to be just this plain depressed. Or drag him to the counselor. That could help.

“Look, Fred, I’m just tired. Can we just stop and resume in a bit? I can go get some more coffee and then we go over the glands.”

“You’re the one who’s getting behind, not me.”

“I take three more classes than you do. I’m not getting behind, I’m getting ahead.”

“Both can be simultaneous. But ok, let’s leave the glands for later,” he finally conceded. Blythe stood up and went back to the counter. He turned to look at her again. Even if he was wrong about Blythe talking to another human that wasn’t a teacher… There was something intriguing about her calm demeanour. “So, you’re into modern architecture?” She looked at him, surprised. She cleared her throat.

“Well the theory behind it is kind of fascinating, but for all I want, I just can’t swallow the aesthetics. So cold and impersonal,” she replied. He nodded, her eyes still on his. “What’s up with your friend?”

“I told you. Sad, lonely soul,” he replied, sitting back on his chair. What Blythe’s personal history was he actually had no idea, because there was no one more reserved than him, apparently. Even if he did, he wouldn’t mention it to some strange girl. Ella Weiss. Architecture student who didn’t get modern architecture but embraced minimalist clothing. She swallowed. “About your aesthetics. Maybe it’s a matter of perspective?”

“How so?”

“They’re beautiful not because they’re classical or have embellishments, but because of their simplicity and practicality. Much like your clothes, I would dare say, just… keeping in line with their decade” he commented. She blushed and he bit his lips. Damn. He didn’t want to give the wrong impression. “I’m not hitting on you, don’t worry,” he said kindly, smiling slightly. “I’m just saying, maybe you could change your perspective to gain some understanding. It might be closer than you think,” he proposed, just as Gilbert came back with a tray. “Blythe, you’re totally mean! No sugar? No cream?”

“You were having black coffee an hour ago, I don’t read minds,” his friend replied. “Here, I brought you one as well, Ella. And some cookies, I figured someone might be hungry.”

“Thank you,” she replied and Blythe, of course, brushed it off and went back to his book. She looked at him again. Blushing again. The cookies were great. They resumed the study, probably staying more than necessary in the brain, until she packed back her book. She didn’t get up, though, indecisive.

“Thank you for sharing your table, guys. And the coffee and cookie, Gilbert.”

“Not a problem,” he said, with a polite smile that gave nothing away. Maybe just a slight nostalgia.

“I really should take off… I guess I’ll see you around?” she said, but still lingered. He tapped his fingers on his tight, debating if this was even a good idea. He didn’t want any distractions right now, but she seemed interesting. And Blythe didn’t seem completely put off by her. Maybe they could be friends? She seemed like a really nice girl, he just had to be upfront with her if she continued with this blushes and stealing glances business. He didn’t want her hurt.

“Sure thing,” Blythe replied. Still formal and detached, but actually talking. She looked briefly at him and he knew he was running out of time. The chances of them meeting her again by chance were slim at best. She stood up.

“Ella- wait,” he said, getting up as well. She looked at him, the slightest blush in her cheeks again. 

“Yes, Fred?”

“Could I… Could we have your number? So we can actually see you around some time?” making it in plural was the safest choice. She had to be able to read in between the lines, right? 

“Oh… sure,” she said, and she scrambled to look for a piece of paper. Blythe just pushed his colour-coded post-its across the table with his pen. “Thanks.” she wrote quickly, her penmanship even and secure. “So.. I guess I’ll hear from you guys?”

“Absolutely,” he replied. Blythe nodded as well and she left, after nodding slightly and giving them a small smile. He looked as she walked out quickly, watching her watch. She had dragged on her reading just to be with them. Waiting for any move. That was as good as it was bad.

“Fred.”

“What?”

“I’ve been calling you for a minute,” Blythe said. He looked at him. Of course he was.

“I’m sorry. Just lost in thought.”

“Are you calling her back?”

“Of course I am. I asked for her phone. And you didn’t roll like a hedgehog when she was around, that’s an improvement. She intrigues me.”

“How so? It’s pretty evident, she likes you,” Gilbert pointed.

“I noticed that. But not what I mean. There’s something about her that I’m curious about. Anyway, she seems kind, and we could use a friend, don’t you think?”

“Does it even matter?”

“It doesn’t, of course. But you need to talk with more people, Blythe. It’s not healthy the way you’re studying. And if you definitely don’t want to come out with me, maybe we can at least have a friend to come over.”

“So you’re not asking her out?” Blythe asked, clearly confused. 

“Of course I’m not. I told you I want to concentrate on my studies. I stand by that. I’ll just have to be clear and see if it’s acceptable for her to know that nothing is going to happen between us.”

“You’re mental.”

“And you could use to be straightforward once in a while,” he replied and saw how Blythe was about to say something and shook his head sadly. Add this to his mysteries now, he had apparently hit a nerve.

“That I could,” Blythe commented in a low voice before looking down to his book. His eyebrows knit together, his eyes steady, clearly not reading anything.

“Blythe,” he called his friend as he organized his desk.

“Huh?”

“Ella is coming to study. Calculus 1,” he informed. They had had coffee a couple of times with her over the past few weeks, the nice September weather giving way to the first small snowfalls of November. Blythe even talked to her now. Maybe constancy was the trick to get through his thick skull? He had been able just because they had been assigned as roommates in the dorms and the hate towards the whole place just brought them together. And his sheer curiosity about the sad looking boy from PEI.

“That’s fine. She’s taking it with Page? She mentioned something the other day.”

“Yes. And we can help her with the derivatives, Page is apparently not great at explaining.”

“So you’re inviting her in now? To this shitty place? Are you sure you don’t want to date the girl?”

“Do you want to date her? Go ahead. Please,” Blythe raised his eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. He should know better than to mention dating and Gilbert Blythe in one sentence. The eyebrow stayed up and he sighed before explaining. “She’s interesting to talk to. And somehow seems to put up with you. And she needs help with math.”

“I’m not hard to put up with.”

“Gilbert, stop telling lies to yourself. I don’t know how you were before, but you’re not a walk in the park right now,” Fred said. Gilbert sighed. “I just want you to know…”

“That you’re here to talk,” his friend recited. Goodness, there was no one more stubborn than Gilbert Blythe. It just was not possible. “I know that. I do. I don’t want to talk. Now, let me read?” And with that, he was shutted off. Again. One day he would get through Bythe and help him with whatever was going on in his mind.

Ella was punctual that afternoon. Maybe overly punctual. As if she had been standing out of the door. Her German family coming through, maybe? She was once again dressed in neutral colours, clean lines, practical and so nice at the same time. She was there, smiling, slight blush on her cheeks, honey eyes all dilated, hair blond down to her shoulders. He greeted her smiling and cursed inside. She was ignoring obliviously everything he was doing to make it clear he was not interested. Because she had to be noticing, she wasn’t stupid.

They studied, Blythe explained to both of them everything because apparently they just didn’t have brains able to do that kind of abstract thinking and when he noticed her stealing one more glance at him he took the decision. There was absolutely no point in leading her on and the best thing he could do for her was to be upfront if she wasn’t going to catch up with any other signal. He waited until she was packing back before offering.

“Can I walk you out?” he said. Blythe frowned at him but she was all big doe eyes again.

“Sure,” she smiled. They walked in silence, the halls relatively quiet at that time of night.

“Look, Ella, I need to be honest with you,” he said, looking at her. She nodded, a slight line appearing in between her eyebrows. The same one she had when she was concentrating hard on something she couldn’t quite grasp. He inhaled deeply. He really didn’t want to hurt her, but it was just going to be worse if he didn’t do it now. “I am not looking to date anyone right now and I don’t want you to get hurt by thinking I’m leading you on. You’re attractive, you’re fun, you’re interesting. I am sure you can find someone to go out with. It just won’t be me.”

“Why are you telling me this?” she asked, her cheeks even more flushed than before. It even looked cute, in its own way.

“Because I can tell I somehow pose some interest for you in that regard and I’m not willing to let it grow. There is no use. And there is no need for anyone to get hurt. I’m all about talking with you, because I genuinely think you’re great, but I am not going to date you and I don’t want you to believe that will happen.”

“So you’re just telling me this as a warning?” she asked, looking at him in the eye. The small frown persistent, her honey eyes stern. He really hoped she wasn’t offended. It wasn’t his intention.

“I don’t want you to misinterpret anything. I don’t want you to think I’m leading you on. That anything I do has a second motive. I am a very direct person, I don’t have second motives. Don’t see the point. So nothing has it,” he explained. She nodded, her eyes still in his, and then turned her sight to the floor. It wouldn’t move from there. He cursed mentally again and debated if touching her arm in a comforting manner would give a totally wrong impression. He was pretty sure it would. He kept his hands to himself.

“So that’s it?” she asked after a moment in which neither talked.

“Unless you want to keep coming just to study, to talk and to drink coffee with Gilbert and me, maybe play boardgames… that’s it. I have zero intention of getting you hurt,” he explained. Because he already valued her too much to get her hurt.

“I like studying with you guys,” she said, finally looking back at him. The blush still in her cheeks, her eyes bright with determination. She wasn’t going to let go and he didn’t know what to think of this.

“This is not going to change, Ella. I’m not dating. It’s not a dare. Nothing to see here, not necessary to save me from anything. I don’t have any traumas for you to cure. I’m just not interested right now and want to focus on my studies for a few years.”

“Ok,” she said, her voice tight, daring. Her eyes still on his. They were by the main door then, standing in front of each other. He knew, if he were any other guy, he would have it very easy. She was an open book. A trusting, eager open book any git could easily take benefit from. But he had made a decision and she didn’t interest him enough to break it, and he would never take advantage of her, or any other girl, for that matter, that way. But she did interest him enough not to go the other way, have casual sex and then leave her. And break her. Probably.

“Ella…” he knew his voice was more tense and not as calm and nice as it had been. But he needed her to take him seriously.

“You were clear enough, Fred. If I want to willingly get into the lion’s mouth, that’s just my problem, isn’t it?” she said, crossing her arms.  _ Great _ . Defensive. He hadn’t been sure of how this conversation was going to turn out, but… Well, this was a very likely scenario, if he was honest.

“That would be true,” he conceded, trying to go back to the kind voice. It would probably work better. He didn’t want her defensive, he just wanted her to know there was no interest from his part. “As long as you’re conscious of what it implies.”

“Then just allow me to make the decision,” she said, looking up at him. Her voice still daring. And he did want to keep seeing her. He had done what he could and he just couldn’t take decisions from her. Not if she already knew what was and was not available. He nodded slightly. She swallowed. “So, study again… what do you say about Thursday?”

“That’s fine. See you here again?”

“Absolutely,” she said, suddenly grinning widely and uncrossing her arms. He nodded again.

“Ella…”

“I know. You’re not interested. Not going to happen. If I come, it is because I know you’ll only be my friend.”

“Ok. I’m glad it’s clear.”

“I’ll see you around, Fred,” she added before opening the door and going out. He stood there, watching as she walked into the night. He wasn’t really sure about any of this, but the whole situation was more his fault than anything else and he would just have to get through with it.

After a few months they just decided to confront the conclusion they had arrived at just two weeks into living in the dorms. They needed a place. For the two of them. Each was with their families for Christmas (how was Blythe’s family even like? Siblings? Grumpy grandad?) but they still kept texting, sending random links to listings of apartments. Ella kept texting as well and he humored her but tried to keep it cool, not quite relaxing even if she said she was finally over him. He didn’t believe her, but she was good for Blythe. 

Blythe found the winning ad, of course. Because he was even more eager than him to get out of the dorm from hell, he couldn’t quite come back to his parents for the weekend. So they booked an appointment and went to see the flat the first day they could, renting a temporary room until they could see the place in person.

The apartment was nothing special. The kitchen was as old as his grandma’s, the bedrooms had a decent enough looking carpet and there was space in the main room that could fit a table and a couple of sofas. The paint was not peeling, bathroom was working and there wasn’t anything that seemed to indicate bedbugs, rats or an ancient murder. It was quite perfect for them.

Ella, of course, couldn’t miss the trip to IKEA. They rented a reasonably sized U-haul and went the three of them, with her making suggestions as to how to decorate the place to make it more “them”. To which Blythe replied it was easy: add three Billy bookcases in a row and fill them with obnoxious medical books. Done. He laughed at his comment. It was quite true. He just commented they needed to add a couple of board games so they didn’t die of boredom.

But they had a great time and Blythe even seemed to somehow be more relaxed than what he had been in the previous five months. When Ella said goodbye later that night (apparently she was the most competent of the three of them to figure out printed instructions) they sat down on their new sofa. The kitchen kind of organized, the half-eaten frozen pizza on the counter, their dirty new glasses in the kitchen sink.

“This is good,” Blythe commented at last.

“How so, good?” He turned to look at him. He had a cider on his hand and looked at ease, for once. It was a good change and it made him smile.

“It feels like a fresh start.”

“Wasn’t coming to Toronto from your island a fresh start?”

“That was… different.” He looked at him. Blythe seemed somehow different than in the months before they went on winter break. Maybe something had changed? Or just finding himself back in Toronto had done the trick?

“Blythe…”

“Look, Fred, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I really think you should. It is amazing, but we’ve been living together for almost six months and I know absolutely nothing about you other than your interest in medicine and some of the music you listen to.”

“I really think you shouldn’t meddle.”

“I really think I should meddle more. You’re miserable. You’ve been miserable since you came here and probably longer” Blythe stood up and left the room. He followed him. “You can’t keep escaping. It’s not healthy and it won’t take you anywhere. Not if the thing you’re escaping from is inside you. So what is it, Blythe. Spill. It’s not like I will tell. I just want you to feel better.”

“I really don’t want to talk about it.” His voice was, of course, tense and clipped. Guarded. As seemed to be the definition of Gilbert Blythe.

“Blythe, do you have any idea of how much I care about you? It makes no sense, because you’re just lousy to be around, but right now, you’re my closest friend and I am honestly worried about you. I tried to let it go, but you’re clearly not improving, so time won’t do it. Why don’t you allow yourself a little respite? You do deserve it, you know?”

“I can’t lose control, Fred,” he admitted. And Fred knew he was finally letting go. Some. 

“Yes, you can. We can get you help if you need it, I can just listen if that’s what you want. It’s not like I’ll tell anything around. But whatever is in your head will keep haunting you until you solve it, and you already know that,” he insisted, sitting on the bed. Blythe looked at him from the window. There was a cherry tree outside, the tiniest buds just beginning to appear. He couldn’t keep his eyes off it, apparently. “What’s with the cherry tree?”

“There was one just outside her window,” Gilbert admitted, his voice almost too quiet to be heard. Her window? His mother’s? Sister? Girlfriend? He leaned more towards girlfriend, because he clearly had issues with women their age. It was the first time he made any reference to the girl. But it could be the mother as well. He had some inner sadness that couldn’t quite be all for an ex. “She called it Snow Queen. It was most nice in the spring, so full of blossoms.”

“Who called it that?”

“Anne did.” And for the first time, he heard a gentle undertone in Blythe’s voice. Who was she?

“Do you want to talk about her?” he asked carefully. Who the hell was this Anne?

“There’s not much to say,” Blythe replied, crossing his arms and holding himself tightly.

“There’s a whole world of things to say, apparently. I will just take whatever you want to give.”

“She doesn’t want me in her life anymore. That’s all there is to it.”

“Who is she?”

“She is… was… Fuck, she’s just the girl I’ve loved for years. My best friend… Just everything.”

“What happened?”

“I did. I screwed up. She wouldn’t allow me to explain. That’s all there is to it.”

“Gilbert, that can’t be all,” he said softly, walking to his friend. There had to be much more to this story.

“Well I could give you all the gruesome details, but…” Gilbert said, making some gesture. Fred looked at him, how the tears were streaming down his face.

In all those months, Gilbert Blythe had looked miserable and quiet every single day. In an almost permanent bad mood. An obsession with study that couldn’t be healthy. He slept very, very poorly (and he had a first account knowledge of this since they actually shared a room for months). But he had never cried. He hugged him as he finally let go, holding him as he sobbed. Once he started, he didn’t seem able to stop, crying as he told him everything about a red haired girl who would just not listen to anything he had to say after she had somehow convinced him, in what in retrospective seemed like an almost delusional drunken state, to pursue and date a girl she hated.

They went to bed very, very late. Around four in the morning. After Fred had cooked him some broth to keep him hydrated and had made Gilbert drink half the pot. After Gilbert had recounted every single story about his life. About this mysterious girl. About the death of his mother. The long illness of his father. And after he had tried to convince him to please go and see the counselor of the university or a psychologist or a psychiatrist or someone, but he needed to get that anxiety controlled and those problems solved and for all he wanted, he still didn’t have the ability to do so.

That night, the first one they shared in the apartment where they would live for almost five years, was a most fateful one for their friendship. He had known, since the moment he had met Gilbert and his mop of unruly curls, his sad hazel eyes, that they would be friends. But that night in particular, he knew they were closer to becoming family. And Gilbert seemed to sense it, too.

The following days and weeks it was as if a dam was broken and suddenly he kept throwing him and Ella random bits of information about the small town he came from. About his father’s love of the Beatles. About his brother and his wife. About everything. And it seemed to help, at least in the beginning, and he thought that maybe, just maybe Blythe didn’t really need to go to therapy and the good crying he’d had was enough.

One thing that was very clear from the second week of their independent cohabitation was that Blythe was useless in the kitchen. He could fix anything. He could clean and leave everything sterile. He couldn’t boil an egg. Which had become evident when he had come into the apartment, smoke detector on, a nasty smell from the kitchen and Gilbert trying to get the smoke out the open window.

He tried to teach him at first. They were useful life skills. His sister-in-law sent him  _ Cooking basics for dummies _ and  _ How to feed yourself.  _ It didn’t work and the landlord was asking if they were doing something weird, with all the times the fire alarm was being set off. Since then, duties had been tacitly distributed: he never washed any pot again and the closest Blythe got to cooking was to chop something.

Eventually they managed a good rhythm between them that made Ella laugh when she visited, telling them they would look cute as a couple. They laughed it off. Then she tried to help with dinner as well, the smoke alarm was set off. She was relegated to washing duties after he shooed her and Blythe off to the living room before they burnt the building down. He could hear them talking and Blythe actually laughing and he felt that, somehow, this could work. Ella in their lives. Blythe happy. He as well.

If only things like this could last forever.

It was about two weeks into the fall term when Blythe received the message. He still had the tan he had gained over the summer, when they went volunteering to the Caribbean. His eyes looked sadder than anything else he had seen. And he had thought the summer away had done them good. When they came back to the apartment they felt like arriving home. Blythe’s unused guitar in a corner, his cooking utensils carefully organized. New spices in the bags.

“What’s now, Blythe? What with Anne? Or someone in your family?” he asked, when it was evident he was not volunteering the information. Ella looked at them. They were seated on the sofa, reviewing the suggested reading for next week’s class, and she was already working on a model on their dining table.

“She’s found a boyfriend,” he replied, his voice eerily quiet. As if he couldn’t quite believe it.

“Fuck,” he said before even thinking. Because he could see how this would make him spiral back down.

“Who’s Anne?” Ella asked from the table, gluing tiny trees. While Blythe had been open with information about mostly everything since the spring, he still had to talk about Anne, mysterious Anne, in front of Ella. 

“Later, Ella,” he told her. The last thing Blythe needed right now was to explain everything.

“Anne is… someone back in PEI,” he replied anyway. And he decided to keep out. He stood up and went to the kitchen to start dinner as he heard the conversation unfold.

“The reason you just refuse to date?”

“That would be her.”

“And she’s dating?”

“She seems to be able to move on quicker than I am.”

“That’s fucked up.” It was.

One afternoon he found himself having coffee with Ella in a tiny coffee shop. He tried to avoid that kind of situation, of the two of them going together without Blythe or someone else. He was still convinced Ella kept having hopes and he still was very much decided about not dating her. Or anyone else, for that matter. He went out whenever he needed to blow off steam, but it hadn’t been anything serious and he knew he wouldn’t see the girls again. Blythe had thrown him a hard eye. He had told him the girls had known what they were getting themselves into and it was consensual.

But that November afternoon it was just the two of them. Blythe had bailed at the last minute and he hated him for it. Even if he could get it and not blame him at all. It was his first appointment with the counselor they had tricked him into seeing and the guy was running late.

“You know you can relax, Fred,” she said after a while. He nodded, looking quickly around. He caught sight of Steve Clayton some tables down. Interesting. He had just mentioned a couple of weeks back how he thought “that architecture friend of theirs” seemed interesting and nice.

“I do know.”

“It’s not weird we’re getting coffee. We’re friends, right?” she said, looking at him. He nodded. “Friends go to have coffee. I’m not reading anything into this.”

“Ok,” he finally said. He had to trust her some. “So, how was that project you had to present on Tuesday?”

“Good! The input you guys gave me really made the whole difference,” she explained, and soon they were deep in conversation and he found himself not needing Blythe as a buffer as much as he had though initially. Maybe Ella really was over him and he was just paranoid. He kept feeling Steve’s eyes on them.

“So, Ella…” he said after a while. Because he was not stupid and knew Steve was somehow attracted to Ella. Which wasn’t hard: she was pretty and so much more. He had noticed that the day he met her. She looked at him, intrigued. “Do you want to play something?”

“What? Are you serious?”

“Of course I am,” he said, smiling. She nodded. “Don’t turn now, but go to the washroom and discreetly look for the guy in the red hoodie. Tell me what you think of him later. You want another coffee?”

He looked as she got up and walked to the back of the coffee shop. He ordered the coffees while she was gone and waited patiently, checking his phone. There was a message from Blythe: he was on the way and could meet them. He texted back: he wouldn’t be long now, and Ella would probably be otherwise engaged. He could wait for him outside for a bit if he wanted. She came back and sat back, again in the chair opposite to him. He never sat next to her.

“So?”

“You find him attractive?”

“Well…” she seemed undecided, as if somehow she could hurt his feelings.

“Ella, you just have to be honest, here,” he said kindly, leaning over and smiling at her. She looked at him. “I won’t feel bad. We’ve established this: we’re not going out, so I wouldn’t feel jealous. Even if we were going out I wouldn’t be. I’m just curious.”

“Well… he is kind of cute. I like his eyes,” she accepted.

“He’s Steve Clayton. We share a class with him. Epidemiology and Biostatistics, which of course I hate and Blythe loves. Clayton is actually pretty clever and has some freaky sense to see the relationship between things. Weird. But kind of amazing.”

“So?” she asked, leaning forward as well, speaking in the same conspiratorial tone of voice he was using.

“He likes you,” he whispered, winking at her. He felt Steve’s eyes on them.

“He doesn’t!” she said, leaning back and laughing as if the whole endeavour was ridiculous.

“He totally does. And if you’re half interested, I can present him to you and you would have a date for the weekend.”

“Would you want that?” Ella asked, looking at him straight in the eyes and leaning forward again. Not hopeful. But questioning. He didn’t waver.

“Only if you like him or are curious enough to try. No need to lead a guy on if you have no interest in him.”

“So you wouldn’t mind me dating?” she asked, skeptical, as if it was a rhetorical question.

“Why on earth would I mind, Ella? Coming back to the original point: we’re not dating, we are not going to date, and I want you to meet someone and be happy. You deserve that,” he said, smiling at her. She frowned. “And Steve is bright, kind, he has a great sense of humour and you like his eyes.”

“You do know it doesn’t work like that, right?” she almost whispered. He felt something inside him and sighed. He didn’t want to hurt her. He had been clear. 

“I do,” he finally said. 

“But you would rather I give it a chance?”

“You’re just not going to meet anyone if you just hang out with Blythe and with me,” he admitted. And he did worry about her. Because she was really one of the kindest persons he had ever met and it seemed like she only ever spent time with the two of them or two other friends.

“Maybe I don’t need to meet anyone else.”

“You can’t be seriously coming back to this,” he said, taking a deep breath and leaning back on his chair. This could become tiring. She looked at him, defiant. “And I’m not mocking you.”

“I know you aren’t. You have this shitty noble cause of commiting to your studies.”

“I do, and I am not letting it go,” he replied, his tone serious. She leaned back again, apparently putting as much distance between them as possible. Great.

“Ok. Set me up with him, then.” He frowned at her. “I’m serious, Fred. If this… Steve Clayton is interested, hell, why not give him a chance?”

“Ella, you’re not being serious here.” Because now she was toying.

“Oh, but I am,” she said, smiling sadly. He nodded. He knew what she was doing and he wasn’t going to fall for it. 

“You know it’s mean going out with him if you’re not really interested and only want to make a point, right?” he said, looking pointedly at her. She nodded. “It’s not fair to him.”

“I just want to know him and see what happens. Keep an open mind,” she said, her practical, problem solving voice kicking in. He nodded, wanting to believe her. “So?”

“Hey, Steve!” he called his classmate. He looked up from his book. “Come here, mate,” he invited him over. He stood up and walked over to their table. “This is Ella. Ella, meet Steve. I think you guys would get along pretty well. Now, I’ll leave you to it. Blythe is waiting for me outside.”

Ella going out with Steve was something that apparently was intense, but relatively short lived. She didn’t give him many details and he didn’t try to dig them out of Blythe, who he knew had the whole story. It was her privacy, after all. Steve didn’t talk to him anymore. He decided not to suggest anything else regarding Ella’s dating life unless he decided to ask her out, something he still didn’t see coming. He kept his mouth shut.

After her breakup, she started to hang out more and more in the apartment. Blythe welcomed her and they grew impossibly closer. He just stood as a witness of the blossoming friendship. He still talked with Ella, yes. It just wasn’t quite as it had been, as if she had finally got over him. Which was what he had wanted for the past year and a half, since they had met her. But he couldn’t shake the feeling this was wrong. 

Ella was more distant. Detached. A sharpness in her voice that hadn’t been there. And it confused him, because he saw no reason to believe that it was just a defense mechanism from her part. He thought it way more probable she just blamed him for how everything with Steve had turned out. And while he wouldn’t say he had no blame in the whole ordeal, he also wasn’t comfortable with the situation.

Blythe, on the other hand, had managed to overcome most of his funk after he started seeing the counselor of the university, and then a psychologist, after he lost a bet that had been rigged from the beginning. It had been excellent teamwork between Ella and him, and by the time Blythe had realized how he had been set up, he had already come to terms with how the therapy was actually helping him and had continued going. He wondered in silence how much else he could manage to accomplish with Ella by his side. He shook his head to disperse the thought. He didn’t want to go down there. Not yet, anyway.

“Freddie,” he heard. Blythe was washing the dinner dishes as he was putting away the sriracha sauce they had used for the noodle soup, completely absorbed in his thoughts. The soup had helped warm them up after being drenched in a freezing spring rain.

“Yup,” he replied, not turning to see his friend. Because he knew by now when Gilbert Blythe meant business and he wasn’t looking forward to that. He decided to keep clearing the counter instead.

“You’re ok?”

“Gilbert Blythe is asking me if I’m ok?”

“I can see the irony. Are you?”

“Never better, Blythe,” he replied, smiling, as he closed the cabinet. He was not telling him about his musings regarding Ella. About how he couldn’t take out of his mind the way she spoke when she explained her latest project to them or told Gilbert to basically stop being an idiot. He would reach a conclusion when it was time and he just wouldn’t push it. Better to deflect the attention. “So, Christine Stuart? I think that’s a much more interesting subject.”

“It is not. It’s just Ella trying to set me up with someone, which I already told her not to do. It won’t work.”

“Still thinking about Anne?” he asked as he reclined on the counter. Blythe kept washing.

“It’s not that I consciously think of her. It’s more like there’s no space for anyone else. If it’s not her, it’s no one.”

“That’s pretty radical, you know? Want some tea?” 

“Sure. I’m not saying it’s not. Look, if at any point I feel ready for dating, I will. And you can’t really be saying anything, Mr. I-want-to-focus-on-my-study,” Blythe replied. He huffed and went to grab the kettle, stealing the water from the tap. “Hey!”

“You said you wanted tea. And I do date.”

“You do one night stands. Very different, Wright.”

“Works for them, works for me, they have even learnt not to walk around in their undies,” he said, winking. Blythe shook his head as he left another pot to dry. They stayed in silence, hearing the water going down the drain, the clank of the dishes and the rumor of the heating kettle.

“You do know that just keeps hurting Ella?” Blythe asked in the end, looking at him with hard eyes, a sudsy sponge in his hand. Deep down, he knew what Blythe said to be true and the reason he never did it when she was around. 

“Ella knows I’m not really dating those girls,” he said, dropping his previous teasing tone. Blythe’s stern stare continued on him. “And I have zero intention of dating her. Which she already knows. I’ve been more than clear, Blythe. I can’t stop living my life for something I don’t want or see any future in. She shouldn’t either. What I have to offer now is just not something she would take. And I wouldn’t offer it to her, come to that.”

“But you think it is right to offer it to random girls you meet?” he insisted, going back to washing.

“They know exactly what they’re getting into. I don’t lie,” he explained. “If they don’t want it, I don’t blame them. I don’t pressure. I don’t even try to get them to believe there will be something else just to get what I want. You know me, I lay the terms pretty plainly.”

“That’s just… disgusting, in a way.”

“It is not.” The water boiling, he poured it over the cups he had prepared.

“So why wouldn’t you offer that to Ella? You know, if it’s as simple as you say. Maybe she would just take that.”

“You know as well as I do that she would never go for it. She wants a stable partner that is committed to her and, right now, the only thing I’m committed about is getting through this semester of hell. Now, leading her on making her believe I want that just to have sex with her, that would be unfair.”

“She just wants you, you know?” Blythe insisted, rinsing the sponge and setting it to dry.

“I do, Blythe. I’m not stupid. It just won’t work right now and I won’t hurt her feelings by promising something that is not real. I’m not even sure about being interested in her in that way, to be honest.”

“Now you’re just oblivious,” Blythe replied as he dried his hands. The kitchen was organized and clean.

“I am not. I find her interesting. She’s attractive. She’s smart. I do get it. I just… There’s nothing there, Blythe. I don’t feel it,” he explained, extending a cup to his friend. Even if there was the way she looked sometimes. He reclined on the counter in front of him and they drank in silence.

“You’re just pissed because she’s finally moving on, aren’t you?”

“What are you saying?” she could be moving on. That was one of his theories. Or she could be blaming him. Or she could have that new attitude as a defense mechanism that would mean just the opposite of what Blythe was saying.

“She’s behaving differently with you. Since she broke up with Steve. Not like she used to when she was dating him, but neither as she was before that. I’ve noticed, so I’m convinced you have as well.”

“That could be for any number of reasons. And if she really got over me, that’s fantastic,” he said.

“Yeah, right. Keep telling that to yourself.”

“Blythe, contrary to what you seem to think… I do care about her. A lot. But that’s different than saying I want to initiate a romantic relationship with her. Two different things. And I don’t want to hurt her by going with something that’s not real. She might hurt right now. Yes. I wish she didn’t. But me being with her wouldn’t solve any problem and would create several others, and then she would end even more hurt. Believe me, it’s not worth it.”

The thing with Gilbert Blythe, he had come to realize, was that he was not an extroverted guy. He never talked liberally. He measured his words, much as he measured everything else in his life. It was one of the qualities he admired in him. But directly related to that, was the impact the words he did say have. He just knew how to push his buttons and he always wondered if it had always been like this or if this had happened after losing his father. Or after losing Anne. Or if it was an effect he only had on him and on no one else. That was a possibility, as well.

The conversation they had in the kitchen stayed close to him for many weeks. Many more than what he would admit, if he was being honest. He ignored it at first, changing his thoughts at every time he noticed it creeping up. By the summer, when they decided to go volunteer in Guatemala, he couldn’t quite ignore his voice in his head and felt his eyes behind him as he talked with any of the pretty volunteers that had come from all over.

So, slowly, he stopped just screwing around (because that’s what it had to be called, and he wasn’t one to use euphemisms). Until they came back and he saw Ella again after three months. She looked exactly the same as she always had- blonde with a complexion that made her blush all the time, beautiful minimal clothing in neutral colors, honey eyes that told more than anything else in her. A book of architecture and some wine for the night. Her practicality and assertiveness and her easy laughter. Everything was the same. Yet, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. 

For his part, Blythe didn’t take his eyes off him the whole night.

When she left, because so far she had never spent the night over at their apartment, they got up and just made a tower of dirty dishes and decided to leave them for the morning. He was silent. Blythe as well, because that was pretty much his definition. They went to brush their teeth and just when he was about to close his bedroom door, his friend spoke.

“So you’re ready?” He knew exactly what he was referring to.

“I would say I am getting there, Blythe,” he replied, not wanting to give away much. “Good night,” he added. But he didn’t sleep and just tossed and turned, viewing all the photos they had taken over the past two years. The trips. The outings to the park. The regular study nights and her dubious experiments in the kitchen (why he kept letting her do them, that was a mystery). That day they talked about adopting a stray dog. He could not stop seeing it now. But he couldn’t quite act now, not after… two years of telling her he was never going to date her. Last time he had told her that… He had set her up to date Steve. 

And he actually had no idea if she had found someone over the summer. So that was something he needed to find out about before moving a finger. Because she was in all her right to look for someone else, hell, he had encouraged it for the longest time. And she had completely changed her behaviour with him after that break up. So she very well could have moved on, as Blythe had said in the Spring.

Well, there he had it: for all he could read people, he couldn’t read himself. If he had made a mistake, he would learn to live with it and he would meet someone else when it was time, and that was it. A lesson learnt. And Ella’s soft honey eyes and sweet smile staring at him the whole night. 

It turned out she had met someone. A Robert Ellinger, political science student, clever as clever could be. They saw him often as he really was a nice guy and came with Ella more often than not. He watched her from the other side of the table as she stole glances with him, as they shared casual gestures of intimacy, until invariably Blythe kicked him under the table and he offered more wine, tea, anything to distract himself from the pang of jealousy he felt. 

Ella and Robert had met in June at a bar and hit it off immediately. Spent the whole summer together. Gone to all of Ella’s favorite places, he had invited her to his family cabin up north. They seemed so happy. And he couldn’t say a word: his time had come and passed and he just saw as the relationship she had craved for came to life. He focused on his study (hadn’t this actually been the purpose of not dating?) and tried just to be there for them. For anything they needed.

Until he was needed. Apparently, what had been a most perfect, movie-worthy summer of love hadn’t stood the difficulties and demands of their studies. Why, he couldn’t understand: Ella always found time to end at their apartment and did her projects there. If she had time to do this, how couldn’t she have it to see Robert? Why didn’t she do the projects at his place? At hers? Invite him over? They were medicine students and managed to see her so often! It didn’t make sense.

Then Blythe pointed it out: she did have a choice of who to spend time with and she was making it, day after day. If she was choosing to spend her afternoons, evenings and nights with them… it was because she found more value in that than in her new boyfriend. Eventually, Robert broke it off. He learnt to be stoic and contain his jokes because the last thing he needed was to show the joy he felt about her summer’s fling end. Ella didn’t give details as to what happened and between the both of them tried to make her feel better.

She decided Blythe was, for some reason, her new pet project and wouldn’t rest until he went out on a date with anyone. He was ready, she insisted. Blythe said he wasn’t. When they asked for his opinion, he made a joke. The thing was, he was ready to date Ella, now. And she wasn’t anymore. A couple of weeks later Blythe caved, just to see if Ella would smile, and went out (finally!) with Christine Stuart, who had been after him for way too long.

And so, apparently, they were four: Blythe with Christine, Ella and him. Blythe seemed reasonably happy and putting in what he knew for a fact was his best effort to make things work with Christine, a chirpy brunette that studied design and liked to stay over Saturday’s nights. And as he got progressively busier taking care of a relationship he hadn’t really looked for, Ella gave him space. Which meant she started talking more to him once again, as she had done at the beginning of their friendship. As weeks progressed, the edge that was still slightly present on her voice slowly disappeared.

He kept the information to himself and, as he did whenever he didn’t want to talk about himself, redirected Blythe’s questions to him and the budding relationship with Christine. He took notice of Ella’s slightly changing attitudes. He somehow made sure that Blythe made it clear to her he hadn’t been screwing around since the summer. Even if by this point he really, really wanted to go back to that, but he kept his focus.

Just as he had talked himself into not dating because he wanted to focus on his studies to get good bases, he could talk himself into waiting for sex. Because much as he knew Ella, he was sure that was not going to happen any time soon once they started going out. And he really wanted to be with her now. It made sense. He found her as attractive as the day he met her, but he’d had over two years to get to know her, what was important to her, what she believed in and what she wanted out of life. And after dealing with Blythe until he was a functioning adult out of sheer care, when mystery Anne’s dad died and Blythe was on the verge of travelling all the way to PEI… managing countless rounds of all-nighters, accompanying her as her parent’s marriage fell apart... he knew he could work and solve problems with her. They made a great team. It made sense. And he couldn’t get her out of his mind, her laughter, the tiny crease of her eyebrows, how she was so damn sexy every single day and he somehow only noticed now. 

“I’ll see you guys around,” Christine said as she stood up and went to the door.

Blythe followed her dutifully. For his part, he looked from the table, his half covered with five different books, opened and with post-its. Ella was on the other side, her latest model covering the space. She looked over as well. He sometimes wondered if Blythe was really into that relationship as he tried so hard to show. He always seemed to have a tense set on his jaw that was not really convincing him. He looked back down at his books.

They were saying their goodbyes and he caught the pet-name Christine insisted on calling him that made him and Ella cringe (and probably Blythe, too, but he would never admit it). Who called anyone under eighty Bertie? A big, showy kiss later, the door was closed and Gilbert was on the sofa, his hand on his nape. That annoying habit. 

“Gilbert, stop that, you’re not eight,” Ella said, her eyes not leaving the tiny window she was gluing.

“You’re not even looking at me!”

“I don’t have to, I already know you. What’s got you on a twist?”

“It’s just…” he started, but didn’t say anything else. He looked at Blythe. “It’s nothing.”

“Has to be something. How long have you been dating her?”

“I don’t know. Forever, it would seem?” 

“Right, because time goes slow when you’re enjoying yourself, Blythe,” he commented. “It’s been… Four months? Five?”

“Since October. And it’s February… So right, four,” Ella provided.

“I don’t know. You know I don’t celebrate that crap. Feels long enough, though.”

“Because you can’t stand her.” Both Ella and Blythe looked at him.

“I do like her. I date her, Wright. Why would I do that if I didn’t like her?”

“Because you have no idea how to stop, Blythe, that’s why. You can’t figure out a polite way of breaking up and it’s eating you inside as she keeps calling you Bertie.”

“Please tell her not to call you that, Gilbert? It’s absurd,” Ella pleaded, her eyes on her model. Fred laughed, because he knew she was as annoyed as he was with the obnoxious pet-name.

“I don’t want to break up with her. And I don’t mind…. Bertie… that much.”

“Yes, keep telling that to yourself. Sure it will suit you in a couple of years. Or decades,” he said, getting up. “Any of you want tea? My brain is fried.” Both nodded and he went to the kitchen. He went back to the main room as the water heated. “Look, Blythe, if you really like her, that’s fine. If you’re dating her just because we encouraged you to do so, please don’t. It doesn’t make sense and it’s not fair for the poor girl.”

“Fred, why are you insisting on this?”

“Because your body screams you want to put fifty miles in between you and her, that’s why. Haven’t had any pain lately? Tension headaches? Something related to clenching your jaw the whole day?” The kettle went off and he went to prepare the teas. He went back and put one on a safe distance of the model (that accident had already happened) and one on the coffee table before going back for his. “You still have long to do today, Ella? Want a hand?”

“I’m almost done. Don’t worry. And you don’t have any fine-motor skills so please stay off this. Go sit with Gilbert or whatever if you’re not studying any more,” she said, as she pasted yet another window, her hand very steady. He shrugged and went to the sofa.

“So, movie?”

“You’re just dropping the subject?”

“Blythe, we can’t tell you what to do, only what we see. But if you’re not happy with her and you see no future in that relationship, why keep it up? You’re not going to gain anything you’re not gaining already and there are way easier methods to accomplish that without enduring dates and obnoxious pet-names.”

“You’re disgusting, have I told you that?”

“You have and we each have made our point. We just disagree on this subject, Blythe. Nothing wrong with that. I just know what I want and I try to be honest about it,” he said. Ella seemed pretty concentrated on her model, but her concentration was suddenly deeper, as if she was actually trying to block them off. Maybe it hadn’t been the brightest idea to mention one-night stands in front of her. Oh well. It was done. She already knew that part of him and how he had stopped doing it. And he was ready to date her, now, if she would have him. He knew her project was due the next day, and after that, when she had a mind to think about something other than scales and measurements, he would ask her out. It was time.

“You haven’t been doing much of that lately,” his friend replied, giving him a pointed look. Because Blythe intuitively knew why he had stopped and was clearly waiting for him to make a move. He returned the stare. One day, Blythe. Or… What difference could a day make, honestly? And Ella was practical and bright, she wasn’t going to let herself get distracted by him asking her out, and Blythe could maybe learn by seeing some example? And go get what he wanted… or end what he didn’t?

“Ok, you win,” he said to Blythe, who frowned as an answer. He turned to the table, where Ella kept gluing tiny windows. Why did her designs always have so many windows? He looked at her for a moment, just enjoying her sight. “Ella, you want to go on a date tomorrow? I changed my mind,” he said finally. Gilbert looked at him, but he kept his eyes fixed on Ella. She looked up from her model, the glue still in her hand. She looked at him for a second and he nodded almost imperceptibly. He did want this. It made sense, now. A whole world of sense. And they could teach Blythe. She glued the tiny window, apparently thinking. He didn’t let his eyes wander.

“Yes, let’s go at five” she replied, looking at him briefly before going back to her project with a tiny smile. Gilbert kept looking at them alternatively and Fred sent him a look.

“That’s it?!”

“Yes, it is that simple. You like the girl, you ask her out, Blythe. Or you don’t like her anymore, you break out with her. Ella, I’ll pick you up at your house, that’s fine?”

“It sure is, Fred, now let me concentrate,” she said, her voice apparently annoyed. But he could see her smile from where he sat.

The house where Ella lived always caused him curiosity. The only thing he knew was that she rented a room, there were other six girls who did the same and the place had some ancient rules about visiting that resulted in her almost living at their place and them not having been even in the parlor of that house. Not that he could complain. So he went to the main door and knocked, a middle aged stern-looking woman opening it.

“Hello, madam,” he greeted, trying to convey his best smile. It couldn’t hurt any. He felt like he was in the forties. Great. “Is Ella Weiss around?” The door closed and he raised his eyebrows. Ok, that was an interesting turn of events. He walked down off the porch and went close to a nice tree in the front yard.

“Fred? Sorry about that. She’s nasty, I should have told you,” Ella appeared not two minutes later. The weather was freezing and she had on the nice coat he had once complimented in passing, a cream beanie and had more makeup than usual. She fidgeted with her hands. Clearly nervous and not even knowing about how to stand. She looked cute like she always did and he smiled broadly.

“Don’t worry about it. How was your project?”

“Great,” she replied, a huge smile, forgetting her nerves for a moment. “We don’t get grades until next week, but I felt confident.”

“That’s good. You’ll do well.” He knew so because she was as much of a nerd as Blythe and him were. Plus, she was bright. She kept her smile. “So, I was thinking… Coffee? Or are you hungry and prefer dinner?”

“Coffee is nice, remember that place… Ugh, I don’t remember the name, but that tall guy from your class mentioned something.”

“I don’t remember the name either, but… I do remember where it was. Let’s go there, it’s not far.”

“Good that everything is so close to the campus, I guess.”

“Good it is,” he said.

They were still in the front of that house that honestly gave him the creeps. How long was it appropriate to date someone before inviting them to live with you if you were almost sure from the first date this was the right person? Would Blythe even approve? Her conservative parents? She was looking expectantly at him, as he had not moved in any direction. He looked at her, because her gaze was always steadying, and he really wanted to lay everything out. As he had in the opposite manner so many months before.

“It turns out you managed to convince me and I am willing to have a relationship now. And I do believe it could be with you. It could only be with you, actually. So let’s get on with this and reevaluate at the end if you’re still interested, how does that sound?” he proposed, hoping his voice sounded kind and not anxious.

“You’re ridiculous, Fred,” she replied, exasperated, the trusted blush appearing in her cheeks. He smiled at her.

“I like you now, so it’s not ridiculous. I just want you to see where we stand right now and if this could actually work. You know, the usual purpose of dates?” he proposed, winking. Some levity could not go wrong.

“Well that’s a good thing. Because you were dragging this long enough,” was her smiley reply. Nice.

“I probably was, but I can’t say I regret it. I think some things take more time to ripen and this was one of those,” he commented. She rolled her eyes. “Shall we?” he said, offering his arm and making her laugh at the old fashioned gesture that was very on-par with her living arrangements. The laugh was great. He didn’t want her nervous or apprehensive. He wanted her to have a great time.

They walked along the street in the direction of the coffee house, some snow falling around them. The day was cold, the night already coming, but he felt joyful. And optimistic. Good signs. And she kept stealing little glances like she had that day they met, and holding the arm he had offered partially as an ice-breaker, partially because he actually wanted her close. Win-win. The place was pretty close, and he opened the door for her.

“I think I’ll try the hot chocolate today,” he commented. Ella was, so far, very quiet. Which was starting to get him on his nerves. “What are you having?”

“I’ll try the… mango strawberry smoothie,” she said. There were still a couple more persons in line and he turned to look at her. She hated mango, for some weird reason he couldn’t quite understand. He saw her fidget with her purse, a habit he already knew she had only when nervous.

“Look, Ella, we already know each other. No need to try and be interesting by ordering something you don’t like, why are you ordering a smoothie with mango, of all things?” he asked gently.

“I don’t even know,” she confessed, blushing bright pink.

“What do you want?” he asked. They could do this. It didn’t have to be awkward. They knew each other pretty well by then. She knew him, he knew her, why on earth was she so worried about? It was obviously the date, but why? Hadn’t he been clear enough? He strived to be clear! And she couldn’t possibly be worried about fucking up… come on, there was no way that could happen. This was just the next natural step on their relationship, as reluctant as he had been to take it. There was no need to have an awkward date. Unless she didn’t want it anymore, but then, why would she be as nervous?

“Just black coffee,” she mumbled.

“Then order that,” he proposed, smiling at her.

“Ok, but I pay.” she decided, her voice more secure. More her. He nodded. He could always invite her to something later on. “Go seat, Fred.”

“That’s more like you,” he replied, a big smile. That’s the girl he knew. She pushed him playfully.

“Right. So go, shoo!”

When she arrived with the coffee she sat opposite to him, as he always did. He stood up and sat next to her, which made her blush again, which made her excuse herself for being basically a thirteen year old. Which was about endearing as Ella could get and he told her so, just because there was no need to keep it just to himself anymore. Which made her blush even more and keep her eyes on her black coffee. 

“I’ll give you some distraction, then,” he said suddenly, as she seemed to have reverted to that shy state she had that night and he still didn’t get how he could cause. She looked at him, curious. He loved being so close to her. The golden flecks on her eyes. “So, Blythe felt all inspired and went and broke up with Christine.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I’m not.”

“Oh my god. It was about time. I can’t even believe I suggested he go out with her in the first place,” she said, chuckling in relief. And just like that, it snapped her off her weird shyness and they just talked. And talked. For what seemed like minutes but were actually hours. Their chairs somehow were closer together once they stood up than when he had sat down next to her, but neither complained. He wanted her close. And he wanted her to kiss him, dammit. 

“You need to go back now, or could I entice you with a walk around the park?”

“Let’s go.”

They walked in silence around the park, already dark at that time during the winter. It was almost deserted, the cold keeping everyone at home. The hour as well, if he was being honest: people usually didn’t walk around the park at 9:00 pm on Thursdays. She had her hands in her pockets and he thought for a second if there was any way he would persuade her to take them out. Just one, so he could hold it. If only she wasn’t fidgeting so much. Or didn’t have that blush that had nothing to do with the freezing temperature because she had sported it since they had left the coffee shop, when he had proposed a walk around the park. The blush was always endearing, but tonight it seemed to be synonymous with shyness and nervousness.

“What, now, Ella?” he finally asked. How could she be so nervous again? Weren’t they past that? What could she honestly be anxious about if all the cards were already laid out on the table? They liked each other. This steady persistence she had seemed to have worked on him. Finally. After two years and a half. He was more than willing to have a relationship with her because she was the perfect person for him and he couldn’t take her out of his head. He had been clear the whole afternoon. So what, now?

“How can you be so relaxed?” she replied. He looked at her, surprised. Why wouldn’t he be?

“I like you, you like me, there’s no need to stress about it. Good thing about not rushing stuff like this,” he explained. It was so simple. So nice. So perfect. Like her. They kept walking in silence. He saw her struggle in silence and decided not to interrupt her train of thought.

“So if I were to kiss you, then it would be all right?” she asked finally, stopping, looking at him with that cute little crease in her forehead. He stood in front of her, smoothed the crease softly with his thumb before replying and left his hand cupping her cheek.

“Of course. I don’t even know what took you so long,” he confessed. Because he was going to do it either way, if he was being honest, but he really wanted her to go for it first. Because he knew how much it meant for her as well. And he felt a little jump in his stomach as she looked at his lips, because for all the time he had pondered about this, about the pros and cons of them dating, about everything that could go wrong, kissing her had never left his mind. And he just knew this kiss would be different from all the others. This girl was just what he wanted. For life.

Her cheeks were still slightly blushed (that blonde complexion she kept complaining about that was just so endearing to him). She bit her lips for a second, evidently still nervous, and put her hand on his nape, bringing him down to her height. He followed her willingly until he felt her lips caressing his and he knew they would work. He already knew they functioned well together. Their dynamic. They trusted each other, respected each other and shared ideals and goals. It made sense. And their chemistry worked as well. And she kissed like every kiss should be. Just perfect. Unforgettable.

He felt relief wash over him at the realization that yes, they evidently also desired each other and this could not be any better because it would be plain weird. Her kiss was just like her, gentle and firm at the same time, and when she tried to break it he couldn’t stand the idea of letting go just yet and brought her closer, deepening it for a few seconds. Because he wasn’t ready to let go quite yet. He finally did, thought, giving her a small, chaste kiss before bringing her close to his chest, the puffy jackets in between them. He sighed as she giggled.

“Ella?” he asked, slightly confused.

“I just kissed you,” she whispered against his chest. As if she were a teen telling a friend she had kissed her favorite singer and couldn’t believe it. 

“I know. I loved it,” he said gently, holding her even tighter.

“It was so worth the wait,” she confessed after a moment, neither of them making any move. He smiled.

“I’m glad you see it that way,” he admitted, because he had taken so long to come to terms with dating, and then with asking Ella out, she could have so easily moved on by then. He had thought she had, at one point. “Thank you.”

“Your heart is beating so fast.”

“I can feel that. And I know you don’t care about the physiological explanation. I just like you a lot, Ella,” he said, finally letting go of her and looking into her eyes. He smiled brightly at her, at how she kept that blush and how her pupils were so dilated and she had this soft, finally at ease smile on her. Both his hands on the sides of her face, his thumbs caressing her cheeks softly. “This seems to work. So, what do you say, we give it a shot at us being together?”

“Ok. So, do you want to head over to your place? You can cook that Italian pasta you made the other day. What did it have, pesto?”

“Pesto,” he confirmed and he couldn’t help but kiss her again. This was so right. “And we can tell Blythe the good news as he tells you his.”

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, well...guess who came to join you on your Friday night? Freddie and Ella! Do you think their story was that short? No way! Let’s check what else happened into Fred’s and Ella’s life after their dating relationship launched and how Gil was also part of it. We know you're dying of curiosity.
> 
> Of course, this period of their lives also had a soundtrack: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2wwk8SguHBnSarj7UCtV3f?si=TmIfaz2kR12cL3w8XfF5cQ

Apparently, for all he wanted to have Ella out of that old-fashioned boarding house, there was nothing he could do. At least not until Ella graduated, and to be honest only if he married her, at least in her parents’ opinion. He tried to suck it up and not make any sarcastic comments, because he knew they would not help his case any, but just vented with Blythe every night when Ella went back there, or when he came back from accompanying her there. She spent so much time in the apartment the only thing left for her to do was actually sleep there and move her clothes. Still, every time he proposed she stayed she declined gently. She had never stayed for one night and he could physically feel her absence in the mattress next to him.

They had been dating for about a year, every day a confirmation of what he had known to be true since that first date. They were good together. So good he didn’t have any doubts about having made the right choice, even if they were busier than ever. She was on the verge of finishing her bachelor and then she would start her masters. So he had tried to gently broach the subject of her moving in with her, after receiving the blessing from Gilbert. But he had hit a wall. Not even with her parents, which had been his biggest concern, but with her… which had led to some arguments he would rather forget. Tonight the latest of those. And he just couldn’t shake it, which annoyed him even more. He hated being in a bad mood.

“Exactly what is bothering you so much, Fred? Be honest. That place is well taken care of, in a safe area, she even lives with a couple of friends and she says the food is not half bad. What is your problem with the place, other than the weird lady they have managing it?”

“Well, the lady!” he replied. Blythe lifted one of his damn eyebrows. He went to the kitchen and put the dirty dishes in order, with the full intent to wash them even if it was not really his chore. Just to relax himself.

“Leave that there. I wash, you organize. And you’re being ridiculous,” he said, pushing him off the sink. He rested his hands on the counter.

“It’s just not the fifties, Blythe.”

He had met her parents some months back. Her dad had moved to Canada from Germany just to be with her mother, who was originally from northern Ontario. They both loved adoringly their only daughter and had raised her up to high standards and traditional values, which showed in everything Ella did. But even if they were in cordial terms, he knew they thought him too progressive and broad-minded. Which he would have no problem with, because compared to them, it was a very accurate portrayal, except that… Ella kept listening to them. And he didn’t actually hope she’d listened to him, the boyfriend. No. That wouldn’t make any sense either.

He just wanted to know what she, Ella Weiss, thought about the whole thing. Her, as an independent being. Because he had an inkling she was just not a copy of her parents, even if she wasn’t either as… what was the word her father had used? As radical as him. But she kept going back to what her parents said. And it drove him mad. Because it wasn’t like he knew Ella to be. And she wasn’t talking, and she always, always spoke her mind. Except now. She was not doing one of the main things that had got them through everything else.

“We’ve known for years that her family is more towards the traditional side of things,” Blythe explained as he started washing the dishes. “This is just one more thing. They want their daughter in a place they feel safe and that’s what the boarding house represents.” 

“That boarding house represents the freaking past, they should let her move on if she so wishes,” he insisted. Because he was just frustrated with the whole situation.

“Have you considered that maybe she doesn’t? That maybe she’s happy there?”

“How can she be happy there if she makes any excuse to be here?”

“She never makes excuses to stay here. Just to be and then she always goes back. Not one complaint. Fred, this is not like you. Again, what is this? Really?”

“I just wish I understood what she wants,” he said, cleaning the countertops. “Not what her parents want. I know plenty of that, and believe me going to church with them is not helping the case any. I’m going for her, I can’t stand the thing. So her parent’s perspective I get. I don’t even care if she truly believes all that and wants to marry. I’d do it tomorrow if that were the problem. I just don’t know what she wants and it’s getting on my nerves. She’s not talking. Ella talks.”

“You know that right now she wants to be with you. That hasn’t changed and that won’t change even if she keeps living at that place. You’ll live together when it’s time for you both to live together.” 

“Yeah, right.” He couldn’t keep the skepticism and sarcasm out of his voice as he watched Blythe dry his hands. He reclined on the counter, watching him fold the tea towel before hanging it from the oven handle.

“Quit sulking. That’s my role, don’t steal it. Cider?” Blythe asked, opening the fridge. He nodded and received the can his friend threw at him. He opened it angrily and then was even angrier at taking it out with a piece of metal. “Can I say something?”

“Go ahead,” he said, gesturing with his hand. Because he knew he really didn’t have any choice in the matter.

“Ella is talking. With you. As she always has. You’re just not listening, and it’s about time you do. This is not only about Ella moving here, which I know it’s something you want. This is about Ella leaving behind her childhood and embracing you as her future, and just maybe she’s not as ready as you to do so. You know she doesn’t take moving in lightly. You wouldn’t be just a roommate. When she comes, it’s because in her mind this is it- and that’s a huge decision.”

“I don’t want her as a roommate. I have you as one. I just want her close. I want to start…” He trailed off, feeling Blythe’s eyes on him. He sighed, shaking his head slightly. “This shouldn’t be so hard, Blythe. We belong together, why can’t she see it?”

“It’s only hard because it’s not the right time yet. You’re tense about this and it’s straining your relationship with Ella. She has been telling you she’s not ready to move here for weeks and you just keep pushing the subject as if that would change her mind. You guys love each other. Don’t ruin it for a moving date, Wright. Give her time to think.”

“So I don’t say anything?”

“You stop pressuring, which I know you’re doing and you’re great at it. And that’s not a compliment. You just know how to do so and it’s not becoming,” Blyhe said, looking sternly at him. He paused for a moment, but he didn’t say anything. He knew his friend was right. “You tell her the door is open to talk about this when she’s ready and you don’t touch the subject any more. At all. Until she speaks first.”

He didn’t say anything, considering his words, and instead gave a swig at the cider. Blythe’s eyes still on him. He held the gaze for a second, just until his phone buzzed. He took it out to see the notification.

**Ella (23:42): I’m home. Love you 😘 

“Call her. Don’t leave it like this until tomorrow,” Blythe continued, his voice still as stern and serious as it had been through the whole conversation. He read the succinct message again. “Listen, the only practical advice my father ever gave me about relationships was to never sleep on a fight, not that it’s helped me any. So call her,” he insisted, a more gentle tone.

“You certainly should have listened to the part where he told you not to make decisions while drunk.”

“Wright, don’t push it,” Blythe cut him, and he knew he had overstepped. “Go and call her. What did she say in that message.”

“She’s home. She loves me.”

“So call her now. I’ll be in the living room. We can review the notes one last time before tomorrow when you’re done.”

He looked at the notification a third time as Blythe went out of the kitchen, giving him a pat on the arm. Maybe he was pushing it too far and he was right. Maybe he was being stubborn and self-centered out of being overly rational, and not listening properly to Ella. That… was infuriating, but made sense. He still felt off, but Blythe was right. He did have to fix this thing. He slid down to the floor and sat there, drinking his cider, thinking what to say. Because nothing he had said any of the past weeks had done anything good, and he couldn’t continue with this stubbornness.

Her clothes for the next day neatly organized on her desk chair, Ella put on some music (low volume, it was late after all) and sat on her bed. Bach’s cello suites would do for today. Biting her lips, she decided she would not dwell anymore on Fred. At least not for tonight. He hadn’t even replied to her message and that had to be somewhat telling. He never took long to answer. So she grabbed the bottle of makeup remover and started cleaning her face methodically, blinking tears away because she would  _ not  _ cry.

She just couldn’t shake how wrong all this was. Moving in with someone was supposed to be a happy moment, not this… series of discussions. She understood where he was coming from: it would make sense for her to move in with them. She understood his logic. But she had to deal with her parents, who were not a picnic, and then… She wasn’t sure it was the right time yet, if she was completely honest with herself.

It was not a question of love. She did love him- going out with Steve and Robert had been great, yes, but what she had felt for them could in no way be compared to what Fred meant in her life. They had never pushed her to her limits to be the best version of herself. Steve had never wanted to look into the future. Robert had idealized everything. Fred… just looked at things the way they were and put them there, for her to put her input in. And made her better. And valued her. God, she just loved him, but this was hard.

After peeking again at her phone, she left the cotton rounds on her nightstand and grabbed a kleenex to clean her nose. She might be able to contain tears, but apparently snot was another system altogether and, as she blew into the tissue, she felt a tear trail down. She cleaned and breathed deeply. Things were not falling apart. Things were not falling apart. They would solve this as they solved every other problem. They were good at problem solving.

But then there was this whole… moving in business and she wasn’t sure. She was only 21 and he was asking her to make this… big, life altering decision. It wasn’t that she didn’t see a future with him. It wasn’t that she didn’t love him. It was just the magnitude of it all, and he seemed so… relaxed about it. She still didn’t get how he could be so chill about things like this. And then, he was pushy because she wasn’t relaxed as he was and...

Her phone started buzzing and she looked at it, trying to decide if to answer it or not. She had actually been waiting for a message. But she wasn’t so sure about a call. It buzzed one, two, three times more and she sighed, knowing the voicemail would soon catch the call. She grabbed it on the last second.

“Hi,” she answered, hopping her voice sounded kind of normal. She didn’t want him to know she had been crying. Or was crying.

“Hi.” His voice sounded tense, but had something else as well. Not the same edge it had had as she left their apartment. Maybe some resignation. There was a silence on the line and she swallowed, grabbing another tissue. She sighed. “Ella… I don’t want to leave things like we did tonight.”

She didn’t answer immediately, the tissue a ball in her fist.

“It is what it is, Fred. You want me to move in, I can’t. Not yet.”

“I understand that…” he said. She huffed somewhat skeptically. If he did, they wouldn’t be in this situation. “No, really. I didn’t before, I’ll give you that. But… I understand better now. I should have listened to you before instead of just insisting on my logic. I didn’t mean to hurt you, Ella, it’s just...”

“For you, it’s the next logical step and you see no point in waiting.”

“Well, yes. But that would only make sense if you were ready and on board. If you’re not… then it’s a moot point.” She sighed and felt the snot go down again. She cleaned her nose without even thinking about it. “Love? Are you crying?” She didn’t answer and bit her lip. She could always not tell him. She didn’t want him to worry unnecessarily. “Ella? Please?”

“It’s nothing, Fred.”

“It is something. I don’t want to make you cry. Yet I did.”

“We’re talking now. It helps.”

“I hate it when I make you cry,” he replied and she could sense his frustration.

“I hate it when we fight,” she replied, cleaning her nose again.

“That too.”

“We just can’t let this stuff get in between us, Freddie. I do love you. And you know I see a future with you. But… we have to talk things through. And that means you listen to what I say, not what you want.”

“I know. I’m honestly sorry. What can I do to make you feel better?” his voice was all soft.

“Just… Can we just finish this conversation?”

“Of course. So… moot point,” he replied, his voice focused again.

“Moot point,” she confirmed.

“I don’t want you to feel pressured, Ella. If this will happen… it will whenever you’re ready. Not before.”

“Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me, love. It’s how it should be and I feel ashamed of having pushed it before. But… You know how I feel about this subject, right?”

“What do you mean? I know you want me to move in with you and Gilbert, that’s what you mean?”

“Well I don’t mean that so we can lower our bills once they’re split in three and not two, you know that, don’t you?”

“Well yes, I hope it’s not because of the bills.”

“I want us to start living our life together, Ella. You’re… just everything I could ever wish for in a woman. The way you complement me, the way you bring out the best in me… And I do want to believe it goes both ways. We just go so well together. I know it, and you know once I know stuff…”

“You just go for it,” she finished for him, her heart still beating wildly at his words, butterflies in her stomach. He always made her feel so cherished.

“Patience is not a great quality of mine,” he confessed. She laughed sadly.

“You’ll have to develop that, Freddie.”

“I know. And I’m willing to do that for us. I will wait for you to get there. I promise I won’t push.”

“You know I see you that way too, do you?”

“I like to believe that, yes. So… now that we’re clear on where I stand, can I ask you a favor?”

“You know you can,” she replied.

“I won’t touch this subject anymore. About you moving in or that horrible place where you live…”

“It’s not horrible. Actually quite nice inside, you just never have been.”

“Ok, that…  _ old-fashioned  _ place where you live, where it’s forbidden for me to set a foot. I won’t say a word on this subject from now on. But, please, Ella. Please. When you’re ready, tell me you’re ready. Be as explicit as you can because I won’t go looking for half signals out of hope, ok? I will just dismiss them. I don’t want any misunderstandings.”

“So what, you want me to say to you I want to move in?”

“Something along that line, yes. Can you do that?” She bit her lip, feeling like it was something too big for her to carry. She heard him sigh on the other side of the line. “I don’t want you to feel pressured. You already know how I feel. So… Can I trust you to tell me when you’re ready for this?”

“Can’t we just revisit this conversation in a couple of months?” she finally said. She wasn’t all that sure on how she could possibly bring out the subject again. Presumably, out of the blue. If maybe they agreed to talk about this in, say, May or June...

“No, love. I won’t bring it out anymore. I’ve been clear. Me doing a… weekly reminder won’t do it. You know where I stand and how I feel, and that won’t change. I know where you stand and how you feel. I’m just asking for you to keep me posted when that changes,” he explained, his voice calm and soothing. She still didn’t answer. “Ella, please?”

“Ok… I’ll tell you. When it changes,” she agreed. 

“Thank you,” he replied, and his voice actually sounded relieved. She let out a breath and smiled. Them, figuring things out, solving problems, this was them. “You’re smiling now, aren’t you?”

“How do you even know?”

“I know you more than what you think,” he replied, and she could tell his mood had shifted and was back to his teasing, relaxed self. She laughed, lying down on the bed. “I also know you have that cute blush of yours and your nose all red and bright from blowing it.”

“It’s awful.”

“I differ. It’s super cute,” he insisted, and she rolled her eyes. Only Fred Wright would think her blushing constantly was cute. “The only thing that I don’t like about it is that you cried to get there and I can’t handle it very well when you cry. I’d rather bring it out by other means. But… back to what I was saying, cute blush and smile while lying on your bed,” he said, and she could just see where he was going.

“Good night, Fred,” she said, smiling. Tonight, they were not doing anything he had in that twisted, lovely mind of his over the phone.

“But, Ella!” he pleaded. He had the nerve to sound whiny!

“No buts,” she replied, laughing. “You have that thing in the hospital tomorrow and you haven’t even checked your notes tonight. Go study.”

“You’re mean.”

“I love you. You need to study. See you at your place tomorrow?”

“Yes. I love you too.”

Soon enough, winter gave way to spring. Between long study sessions, Blythe trying to organize his cider business in whatever time he had left after study and therapy, and him still trying to squeeze in extra credits (he wanted to graduate some day and would rather make it soon), the days went by really quickly. Ella continued doing most of her projects in the apartment and Fred found an old drawing table on a curbside that Blythe restored until it looked perfect, putting to use his country boy talents. She couldn’t quite believe it when she saw it, already set up in a corner (they had managed to keep it hidden for weeks). So now the dining table was full of models and medicine books, and the drawing table of blueprints. But it felt like home to Fred.

And so she spent even more hours there, and he was on the verge of giving her a key. Blythe stopped him: it would probably give the wrong idea (the table was a big enough risk). He had managed to keep his mouth shut in front of Ella for months. Even if it had been hard. But hey, he had promised to learn to be more patient… and he wasn’t sure if he was learning or just struggling, but time was passing by and he hadn’t pressured her anymore. He only ever brought up the conversation with Blythe.

“Freddie?” she called from the table. She had been debating on what to do with the presentation she had to do the following day. It was one of the biggest projects she had made so far and had tons of things. Alicia had already offered to help her set up, but moving everything to the house was really more annoying than anything else. And she didn’t want to bother the boys at 6:00 am. Even if Gilbert probably would be awake.

“Yes?” he asked, not lifting his sight from the long protein chain he was struggling to understand.

“I have to present this stuff tomorrow, and professor Davies wants it to be at sunrise because he’s going on a work trip afterwards…”

“Sunrise?” He closed the book. It made no sense and staring at it wasn’t going to have any effect on the diagram. He could always stay up late. Wait for Blythe. Ask him to explain it to him.

“7:00 am.”

“Ok, so sunrise. Wow, that’s early,” he commented. Why would anyone do that? He leaned back on the sofa’s armrest, facing her. She was putting the final details on the blueprint she was going to present the next day and he always loved seeing her concentrate. She didn’t even lift up her sight and continued, the slight crease on her brow. “So you’ll come by early tomorrow to pick your things? I can help you bring them, if you want, I have class only at 9:00.”

“I actually wanted to ask you if you could help me bring it to the house? It will be easier to go from there, the building where I have to present is super close and Alicia already said she could help me bring the things.”

“Right. If you’re sure. But yeah, no problem, I can go with you later. I could go to the presentation if you want.”

“Thank you. And no, don’t go. I know you don’t wake up that early and it will be boring, I won’t say anything you haven’t already heard. Where’s Gilbert, anyway?”

“Out with Charlotte,” he replied. Ella looked at him briefly and he knew she didn’t remember. “The brunette we met a couple of weeks ago?”

“So he’s actually giving it a try? More than two weeks is almost unheard of for him.”

“If you don’t count Bertie…” he replied. She stopped drawing as she laughed. “But I agree. Maybe this one has more potential? She seemed nice enough the other day.”

“As long as he’s not still looking for a copycat of Anne… Which I’m always afraid he does.” She went back to drawing.

“He keeps doing that, love. Which is why every single relationship he’s been into has been doomed. But this one didn’t look like the other ones, which is why I see some potential. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what happens.”

“So what does this one do? She’s also studying literature? Journalism? Pedagogy?” ...as were all the other girls, he finished in his head, Ella’s implication clear.

“Biochemistry.”

“Oh, wow. And she’s all this flowy organic type?” she asked, because she was still skeptical. Gilbert always dated a version of the same idea. “Vegetarian, yogui, the works?”

“Nope, she’s actually quite… I don’t know, like the showcase from Gap or something like that. Likes to run as sport, has done half marathons or something like that,” he replied, making Ella laugh again. She shook her head. He tried to make his point. “She is different from the other ones, Ella. How much, I can’t know yet. He mentioned something about her travelling around and liking spicy food? Used to play hockey in highschool? But she’s the first one that’s breaking the pattern and I think that’s telling. I feel optimistic, for once.”

“I’ll try to keep my mind open.” Even if with Gilbert, it was harder and harder to do. She even mixed up the names of the few girlfriends he’d had, so similar they were. He really deserved someone who valued him and it was tiring to see him still hurt after so many years. It made her sad, whenever she thought about it. She bit her lip, doing a final stroke. There. Done.

“Please do?” he pleaded. She knew Fred felt as she did with this whole situation. She actually had a half mind of going to that island of his and looking for any redhead girl called Anne so she could give her a piece of her mind, or at the very least lock them up so they could sort whatever had happened. Fred stretched, a bit tired after having sat the whole day. He saw as she started organizing her things. “You’re done?”

“Yes, wanna see?” He walked over to where she was still sitting on the high chair and hugged her from behind. The blueprint was still extended, and he took a moment to see the school she had been designing and smiled. It was actually quite nice. Like everything she ever did, so full of light and natural materials, without any clutter. She leaned back a little to rest on his chest.

“I love it. It always amazes me how you speak of a concept and then make it into something real,”

“We’ll have to see if professor Davies thinks like you. I believe you’re a bit biased.”

“I know I am biased, Ella. I still try to give you my honest opinion.”

“Biased honest opinion,” she corrected. He shook his head, smiling. Maybe she was right. “So, should we go? I know you were studying and I don’t want to interrupt for that long.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m not getting the concept anyway, I’ll have Blythe explain it to me.”

“Still. I have to wake up with the roosters tomorrow. Let’s go, you can talk to me about what you were reading,” she said as she hopped off the stool and started rolling the papers. 

She gave a look around the living room, making sure she wasn’t leaving anything important. For being an apartment of two med students, it always was super tidy and cozy. She felt so good there with them it was harder and harder to go back and face Miss Dalia, but… At the very least, she wanted her bachelor and an answer from the scholarship for the master, because she couldn’t very well tell her dad to pay for her education while she played at being miss independent. They wouldn’t have it. First, she would be financially independent and have a degree and then she would take the next step with Fred. If he even wanted it anymore.

They walked over to her place, talking easily. He tried to explain to her what he had been studying. Putting it in terms Ella could understand actually helped him process the information better, and he was confident that when he went back to the apartment everything would be a bit clearer. Maybe he wouldn’t have to keep Blythe up until midnight.

He carried the tubes with the blueprints on the shoulder as well as a box with different small models and she took the big one, that was the lightest one as it was hollow inside. It was more bulky than it was heavy. They arrived at her house and he hesitated for a bit as they walked up the porch. He knew he wasn’t supposed to get inside, but really, was he supposed to just leave everything on the door?

“Ella, can’t you ask Miss Dalia if I can go inside just to drop this somewhere? It’s not like I’ll linger,” he proposed. She bit her lip, unsure.

“Let me check,” she conceded. And he knew he couldn’t be totally wrong, because any other day she would have dismissed the idea. They were going up the stairs as the door opened. Did that woman have sensors or something? It was creepy how every time he even got close to the entrance she appeared. “Good night, Miss Dalia,” she greeted, smiling. “This is Fred, he’s just helping me carry my things… Could he just get inside to leave them in my room?” He stayed behind, doing his best to put on a warm smile.

“No, Ella. You know the rules.”

“Miss Dalia, please. I will be all but two minutes, it’s just to leave this for Ella and then I’ll be gone. You can come with us if you want,” he proposed. It wasn’t like they were actually trying to sneak into her bedroom to do anything. They already had his at the apartment for that. Where they didn’t have to sneak.

“No, the rules are the rules. The other girls can help you carry that.” He was about to reply something (something nice, he wasn’t daft) but noted the look Ella was giving him and sighed instead.

“Ok… So, I’ll wait here while you fetch someone?” he proposed. She nodded and disappeared inside and Miss Dalia closed the door on his face. He cursed mentally and tried remembering the protein he had been studying just to empty his mind. The door opened again. Ella alone.

“I’ll just take it, Freddie. I already left the rest in my room.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.” He gave her the things and held the box while she hung the tubes from her shoulder.

“She’s a bitch,” he commented in a low voice.

“Fred! She may hear you!” she scolded him in a low voice.

“It’s not like it will change her opinion of me. I’m evil, remember?” he said, in a bad mood.

“Still, you don’t want to be on her bad side. Believe me,” she said, looking at him, her eyes stern. He nodded. “Quit sulking. I’ll call you tomorrow? What time are you done with class?”

“Around twelve. I’ll go back to the apartment to study, if you want to go.”

“I’ll see you there then,” she smiled. He nodded and caressed her cheek lightly. 

“I love you, Ella. Sleep tight,” he said, and gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek. Because Miss Dalia actually was on the door now. Ella went inside and the door was shut immediately. He sighed and turned back, taking his phone out of his pocket. He needed to study, because if he kept turning in his head all the things he could have said to Miss Dalia and all the possible scenarios that could derive from them… It just wouldn’t be healthy.

**Fred (20:37): Are you coming home tonight? I could use some help studying.

**Blythe (20:40): I’m not sure. I guess I could go and tell Charlotte I’ll see her another day and lose on all this sex we’re totally having 😑 

**Blythe (20:40): Prat. 🙄 We just kissed last week. Nothing’s happening, we’re actually taking this kind of slow.

**Blythe (20:41): And you usually don’t ask for help like this. Are you ok?

Because he usually didn’t need help like this, but either the subject was somehow beyond his grasp, or he had been too distracted the whole afternoon. And even if he managed to understand the theory and its application, he needed to vent at another human being. Blythe, specifically. He walked a couple of blocks more. But if Blythe was actually serious about this girl...

**Fred (20:44): You didn’t took it slow with Jessica or Hannah. Or Elisa. Or...

**Fred (20:45): I don’t get creatine kinase B-type. Like honestly it doesn’t make sense. 

**Blythe (20:45): Just that? Send me a picture of what you don’t get. Or be specific, Fred 🤨

**Blythe (20:45): And I actually think there might be potential with Lottie. I’m trying to do things differently now. See how it goes.

He would send it if he was actually home, but he still had about four blocks more to walk. He should just leave the subject. Let Blythe enjoy his night. He finally had found someone who apparently could be a match for him and he actually looked slightly more relaxed the past few days.

**Fred (20:45): I don’t get how the transfer of phosphate between ATP and phosphogens works.

**Blythe (20:47): Are you serious? How’s Ella?

**Fred (20:48): Fine. Just left her at her place. I’ll send you a picture when I get to the apartment. Thanks for the help.

He went up the stairs quickly, greeting the cheery old man from the third floor, and went inside. Without Ella’s project, that had been on the dining table for the best part of the past month, the place seemed empty. He went to the sofa, where he had left his book and opened it back again. He read the page once more. And then one more time. Huh.

**Fred (20:54): Forget it. Makes sense now. Enjoy your night! 😏 😜

**Blythe (20:56): Are you sure?

**Fred (20:56): Yes, Blythe. Go have sex. Be brave. Take the next step. Enjoy sleeping next to her. I’ll see you tomorrow.

Blythe didn’t answer back. He went to have a shower and then sat in front of the tv, setting it on low volume and grabbing his book again. It still made sense. He kept reading the chapter, because he actually preferred to get somewhat ahead just in case.

**Ella (21:56): I’m going to bed. Love you!

**Fred (21:58): Love you too. You’ll do great tomorrow, you’ll see 😘

He was startled by the sound of the door and turned in time to see Blythe go inside and kick off his shoes.

“I thought you were staying there,” he said.

“You actually believed that? I’ve known her for a month,” Blythe replied, sitting next to him and snatching the book. “You’re still studying this? Show me what you don’t get so we can get it out of the way.”

“I was revising. Don’t be a dick, I get the concept now. And stop evading the topic. You’ve known her for a month and are still seeing her.”

“Well, I like her. Is that bad?”

“I think it’s great. She seems like a nice girl,” he took the book back. “When are we seeing her again?”

“I don’t know, Fred. Give it time,” he said, taking the control. “So what happened tonight? Ella took her project? I thought it was tomorrow.”

“It is. She presents at 7:00. Weird teacher. I helped her take the stuff to her place, Alicia is supposed to help her take it tomorrow.”

“And that’s what got you in a mood?”

“I am not in a mood.”

“Fred… You are.”

“Miss Dalia is a bitch.”

“Probably she’s not the nicest person ever, but you’re not really mad at her and you know it. Ella hasn’t said anything yet?”

“Not a word. And it’s May, now. You really should go and sleep with Charlotte, Blythe. If she wants, anyway.”

“Stop talking about Charlotte. Whatever happens with her will happen in due time and I won’t pressure it. Same as you are doing with Ella.”

“Right.”

“You’re not yourself when you’re in this state, Fred. It’s not like you to be tense and stressed out of nothing. You need to get a grip on this or reevaluate, speak with her about how you feel or something. But you keeping everything inside is not healthy. You never keep stuff inside, you speak and go for it.”

“Because you’re an expert?”

“Because I’m an expert at keeping stuff inside and believe me, it’s not for you. So do yourself a favour and let it out before you become a sulking man like me.”

“Look, I understand where she’s coming from. I get why it’s harder for her to make such a decision. I know she doesn’t want to move until she’s at least independent. So I have to wait for that to happen. Talking about it won’t make that much of a difference, except it could be interpreted as me putting pressure on her again, and that’s the one thing I want to avoid. I won’t pressure Ella into anything and I know eventually she will say something. I know her and I know she will bring up the subject when it’s time,” he explained. Blythe nodded. “And I’m not becoming you. I have healthy habits, unlike you, I speak with more than two people regularly and… well, I can’t say you’re still pining for Anne if you’re seeing Charlotte. But the point stands, Blythe. I’m frustrated like hell, yes. But I’m not even keeping it inside, that’s why I keep venting with you, so I don’t explode. So… thanks, I guess? And Miss Dalia is still a bitch.”

“What did she do?” Blythe asked, sighing and resigned. 

“She didn’t allow me inside just to let Ella’s stuff in a safe place because it’s against the rules. As if I was going to take more than a minute! I even told her to come with us so she could see nothing untoward was happening… Which is beyond ridiculous, you know? The old lady has to know that Ella is hardly a saint, and we would never do anything in that house. And then she didn’t even allow us to say goodbye! She was standing there, looking at us!” he explained, his anger at the whole situation resurfacing. It wasn’t even the issue of Ella going to live with them. Ok, it partially was. But the nerve of Miss Dalia! Blythe let out a breath and chuckled.

“Ok, she is a piece of work.”

“She is, I’m telling you she’s a bitch!”

“So you’re sure you have no problem with this? I still can tell him to find himself a hotel,” Blythe insisted, organizing the groceries they had just been buying.

“And lose the opportunity of getting out all your secrets from your brother? You’re kidding, right?”

“I… was not. I’m just suddenly regretting having suggested this.”

“Don’t worry, Blythe. I’m just glad to meet Bash in person. And the flat is big enough, we’ve had visits before. What time does his flight arrive?” 

“Any time now, and then about an hour before he gets here. Is Ella still at her mother’s?”

“Unfortunately,” he replied.

He hated this summer the most. When they could get out and go volunteer they were fine… because he didn’t feel her absence so much. She had also traveled last year, so she wasn’t alone either. But this year, for the first time they had to actually stay and start going to the hospital… He missed her every day. First, she had gone to Germany to visit Oma for a long month and he had only had the chance to see her briefly before she went up north with her mother’s family. Which was torture. She still hadn’t mentioned anything about moving in and, true to his word, he hadn’t said a word in that regard either, even when he kept venting with Blythe whenever they were alone. Just to keep his sanity. He wished he could get around to go visit her, but the hours at the hospital were long and unpredictable… and being at her mother’s place four hours away wouldn’t do it, even if by some miracle they allowed him to stay for the night.

“When is she coming back? I thought she started in September… She had mentioned something about being back by now. At least when we talked a couple of days ago.”

“She does. Start in September. But she’s not coming back until the weekend before. Something about her grandma…”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Is she ok?”

“It’s fine. She’s not sick or anything, just her… eightieth birthday or something and they decided on a last minute party. At least there’s cellphones now, I guess…” And teasing her and getting her all turned on by phone was a whole new experience, if he was honest with himself. Way more interesting than he would have ever thought. But he’d rather have her next to him. He took out a pot and a pan to start preparing dinner and tossed a tray of mushrooms and an onion to Blythe. “Chop this if you’re staying here.”

“She still hasn’t said anything about moving in?” Blythe asked, taking out a chopping board and peeling the onion without complaining. He sighed, stopping what he was doing for a moment..

“She hasn’t… Which you should know because you would be the next one to know. And you know I actually had some hope?” he confessed. “She finished her bachelor, that house where she lives caters mostly to undergrads… I thought she might see it as a transition of sorts.” He had held to that hope all through spring. And then all through this summer of hell. And… fall was near and she hadn’t said anything. He was running out of reasons why she might still hesitate, other than… not being able to bring back the subject (or some other way darker reasons he wasn’t betting on). But he had given his word, and if he spoke again of her moving in, and she still wasn’t ready… He couldn’t do that to her. He had promised patience and he tried his best to be a man of his word.

“I know you did,” Blythe replied. Because he actually knew, because he had told him so in a myriad of variations. “She’ll come around, eventually. Haven’t you thought about… you know, proposing? Maybe that way…” Blythe and his romantic ideals were actually cute sometimes. If he hadn’t screwed up with Anne when they were teens, they would probably be married by then. By the way things were going, he was betting on Charlotte living with them before Ella did. Or actually marrying. He didn’t put that beyond Blythe. “So how small do you want this onion?”

“No. We’ve been through this, Blythe. I actually think it’s important to live with someone before marrying. And waaaay smaller than that, Blythe, keep chopping. The mushrooms just sliced,” he signaled and continued preparing the chicken. 

“All I’m saying, maybe she sees it the other way round.”

“Has she mentioned something?” he asked, curious. Because that was a possibility. He was actually astounded at how much Ella and Blythe talked every day, because he would have never guessed it and when he had noticed it had made him laugh out of the sheer cuteness of the situation. And maybe she had said something to Blythe about wanting to marry? He could do that. Maybe. If it was that important to her.

“She hasn’t. I’m trying to understand her.”

“We actually talked about it. Some months back. She seemed to think it was possible both ways and when I asked for her preference she said she didn’t actually care. She did leave it clear she did expect to marry at some point, at least for her parents.” 

“That’s mental.”

“Don’t tell me. But if she wants to marry, we’ll marry. It won’t change a thing how I feel about her and the projects we have. It’s just a social standard.”

“It is what you make it to be, Wright, and you know that better than anyone.”

“I do. I’m just jesting. Put a little oil in the pan and set the stove to medium.” He looked over to check what Blythe was doing, because he actually didn’t trust him with any cooking and would take over as soon as the pan was hot. “Just a tad more, Blythe.” 

“Gilly boy! You look healthy!” Bash was all he had ever hopped him to be. He had seen him in pictures, had spoken to him occasionally over the phone... But hadn’t met him in person in almost four years of knowing Blythe. 

“Why on earth wouldn’t I be healthy?”

“It’s just something I can say that’s true, Blythe! Or what do you want me to say? You think he looks happy, Wright?”

“He looks like the lost puppy he is. But you get used to that expression after some months. Or years. Even after going out with Charlotte for months nothing has changed.”

“Oh there you’re hopeful, Fred. This one here? Just like his father. He’ll take half his life to forget his first love and only then he’ll be able to maybe see other chicks.”

“You both, just shut up? And Bash, I am actually dating a girl, so drop it,” Blythes ears were red and it was as funny as he had imagined. He just wished that Ella was there and the evening would be perfect. He grabbed Bash’s suitcase and left it in Blythe's room, where he would be sleeping. Blythe would have the couch for the week. He heard them talking quietly and decided to leave them some space, going to his room and grabbing his phone.

**Ella (18:08): So guess what grandma did.

He started typing his reply, but decided to call her instead. He wanted to hear her, even if just for a minute. She answered almost immediately.

“So what did she do?”

“She opened a facebook account.”

“What?”

“Yep, grandma Esther has facebook. She is about to send you a friend request, just so you don’t get surprised.” He laughed.

“Your grandma Esther wants me, outrageous progressive boyfriend of her granddaughter, as a facebook friend?”

“She does, so… you know, just do your posts in some way she can’t read them? Just so she doesn’t hate you?” He laughed even harder. 

“Oh, let her see my status updates. It’ll be fun!” This was ridiculous. 

“Hey, I’m being serious here, Fred.”

“Love, when aren’t you serious? Just consider it for a second, please?” he said, still chuckling. He could see her shaking her head and noticed a small chuckle. “I’ll just put the same restrictions I have for your parents, that should do it. Don’t worry about it.”

“Thanks.” And she sounded actually relieved. As if he could do it any other way. He wanted to be in good standing with her family, he wasn’t about to sabotage himself.

“It’s nothing, you know I’d do it. So… How’s everything going? Other than your grandma being all techy and all?”

“A bit boring, to be honest, but… I guess being in the cottage is nice. The forest is lovely and we never go on trails when we’re in school, so I’m trying to enjoy it while I can.”

“We can go out more if you want. Go to some trails. Walk a bit.”

“I’d like that.”

“We will do it then.” He looked out. It was still light outside. The silence stretched in between them and he debated on whether to ask her or not. “Ella?”

“Yes, Freddie?”

“You know you can talk to me about anything, right? No self-consciousness, no shyness…”

“I do, yes. Why?”

“Just making sure. I have to go back, Bash is finally here and I have to squeeze all the stories I can out of him.”

“Say hi to him?”

“I will. I love you. Take care. And please, make sure your grandma understands facebook so she doesn’t fall for a scam?”

“Oh, my mom is already lecturing her. I love you too. See you on Sunday?”

“Of course. Wouldn’t miss it.”

He went back to the living room and sat with both Bash and Blythe, and they spoke sharing ciders and whiskeys until late at night. The stories Bash knew about his brother were too ridiculous to be true, and when they compared them to what had happened since he moved in with him, poor Blythe didn’t stand a chance. And he was all for it, if he was honest with himself. It was good to know Blythe had been truly happy at some point in his life. It gave some hope for the future.

“So, has this muck told you about the time he fell in hockey training and wouldn’t say anything just so he wouldn’t miss a game?”

“Blythe? Ignoring pain as if it’s going away on its own? Never!” he replied. Blythe stood up sighing, apparently already resigned to every embarrassing story being tossed in between what he considered his family. 

“I’m going to get a couple of ciders. Any of you want anything?”

“Sure, I’ll have one,” Bash replied, and Fred made a gesture to say he could have another one as well. Next day was Sunday, anyway. “So, he was limping. Actually limping like that doctor from the series he used to watch. And he was still insisting he was fine, he had nothing.”

“Why wouldn’t you just have something for the pain, Blythe?” he asked him, turning around.

“I did! Was high on advil, Fred. Didn’t work,” he called from the kitchen.

“Wasn’t going to the doctor an option?”

“He believed he was strong. So he had this… all serious and noble face. For about four days. But my Mary caught him changing a bandage the night before the game and the thing was… hideous. Hideous might be a nice word. All purple and black and swollen. We took him to the hospital and there you have it, two bones from his ankle were fractured and in bad shape. Had to have surgery just because he was stubborn. He couldn’t finish that season and spent the whole spring in physiotherapy.”

“I’m sure he was a joy to be around,” Fred chuckled. Bash made a face but didn’t say anything, and Fred actually caught the sadness in his eyes, that was instantly transformed to a teasing smile as Blythe came back with the cans. And he knew it: he hadn’t been a pain in the ass because somehow, Anne had been around and had cheered him up. But neither was mentioning the elusive redhead.

“It was a trimalleolar fracture. They were puree by the time Mary caught me. I have two pretty neat surgical plates and almost a dozen screws down there and somehow they managed not to leave a huge scar.”

“Ouch. Blythe, why on earth did you walk around with a broken ankle?”

“Game was important. Defining of the season. I was captain… I don’t know, Fred. I was honestly high on painkillers. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“You do know you’re not a TV character, right?”

“I was sixteen and wanted to play hockey. No need to read anything more into that. Or are you telling me you didn’t take any stupid decisions?”

  
  
  


Ella looked out of the window of her room and, sure enough, he was there. By the tree, as he always was when he waited for her to go out. She smiled, butterflies in her stomach and a pit of nerves she hadn’t really felt for months. The pit of nerves. The butterflies were a common occurrence. 

**Ella W. (16:00): I’ll be out in a minute!

**Freddie (16:00): Take your time :)

She searched in her messages, breathing deeply. There it was, that conversation with Gilbert. From four days ago. She needed to read it one last time to gain some sort of braveness. She was about to change her life and probably about to set her parents against her.

**Ella W. (10:15): Gilbert?

**Gilbert (10:17): Yup?

**Ella W. (10:17): There’s… something I’ve been thinking about over the summer and I just wanted to run it by you… See what you think. You’re close both to Freddie and me 😊

**Gilbert (10:18): Please ease my mind and tell me this is about you coming to live with us?

**Ella W. (10:18): It is, actually. I’m just not sure if you’re still open to it or if Fred even wants it anymore.

**Gilbert (10:18): I’d like you here. I have no problem with that. You know I enjoy your company. And you’re here so often… It will just be easier for everyone involved. About Fred, he wants it. 

**Ella W. (10:19): He hasn’t said anything since February.

**Gilbert (10:20): As far as I understand, because he obviously doesn’t tell me everything he discusses with you, he told you he wouldn’t say anything else until you spoke out. He’s just keeping his word. But believe me, he wants you here. I know that as a fact. He’s just not going to even mention the subject until you do.

**Ella W. (10:24): So you don’t think he will… I don’t know, tease me? Or something? It’s Fred we’re talking about 🙈

**Gilbert (10:26): I promise, Ella. He won’t be surprised, he won’t make a fuzz. He’s actively waiting for you to speak and he will never make you feel bad about taking as long as you need. Just, if you’re not sure, don’t do it. If you’re sure… then welcome home 😊 

**Gilbert (10:26): Go for what you want, Ella. Start the conversation. Take the first step. Tell him you’re ready to move in with him… And I promise, you won’t have to explain anything unless you want it. Don’t worry about it 😉

She looked herself again in the mirror before grabbing her purse and her phone, a jacket just in case. She didn’t like using his things, way too big for her. She nodded, trying to settle the nerves and went downstairs, closing the door softly behind her. He was on his phone, just as she had pictured him.

“Freddie,” she called him, when she was almost next to him. He turned, his big, bright smile making her feel warm inside. He opened his arms and she went right in them, hugging him tightly for a second, searching his lips just next. She gave him a quick peck as he held her face softly, looking in her eyes. He had missed her so much and she was finally back home. Well, back in that house, but they were together now and he knew Blythe had a shift that day at the hospital. Until midnight.

“Hey there,” he said softly, her soft honey eyes helping all the tension he felt melt away. Just seeing her calmed him. “You have any idea of how much I’ve missed you?”

“Maybe about half as I’ve missed you,” she proposed, winking. He shook his head. She clearly had no idea. “Let’s go, I want to properly kiss you and Mrs. Dalia was by the window.” He let her go, laughing. That witch. He offered his arm, something that had become half a joke, half something they really enjoyed, and she took it gladly, getting closer to him.

He talked animatedly about his rotations in the hospital for a few blocks, prompted by a couple of questions. She tried to keep her hands still, her nerves still there. He watched quietly as she played with her purse and tried to ignore it for a moment. Maybe it was just because they hadn’t seen each other for so long. They were close to the coffee shop where they usually went. She still had that weird attitude that was oddly reminiscent to their first date and he’d had enough.

“Is everything alright, love? I feel weirdly like that time I invited you for coffee and you wanted a mango smoothie,” he asked, teasing gently. Smiling at her.

“Leave the smoothie alone?” She would truly never live it down.

“You were about to order a mango smoothie. I’m never leaving it alone. So what’s up? Why are you nervous?” he asked, holding her fidgety hand and stopping on the side so they wouldn’t be on the way of the other pedestrians. He looked at her.

“Nothing’s up,” she replied as she blushed.  _ Not here, Freddie. _

“Ella, you’re fidgeting, blushing cutely and suspiciously quiet, nervous as if we were on our first date. Which I still don’t get why you were nervous about, by the way.”

“I was afraid of screwing up, Freddie, we’ve gone through that. And I’m not nervous. Can we go? I actually want that coffee,” she said, trying to deflect his attention. She didn’t want to speak about her moving in with them on the middle of the street.

“You are nervous. You forget I can read you. Please talk to me?”

“I will. Just not here?” she proposed. He was right. He could always see right through her. Maybe this was actually good and it would help her get it out. It wouldn’t be as out of the blue, more… out of the blue but prompted by him. He looked at her, tilting his head. So she was willing to talk. Better to get it over, then.

“Where?” 

“Your place?”

“I thought you wanted the coffee.”

“I just don’t want this conversation here.”

“What conversation?”

“You, asking about my nonexistent nerves.”

“Yes-existing nerves or there would be no conversation,” he replied, looking at her pointedly, but with a tender smile. She nodded. Ok, so she wasn’t denying them anymore. What was going on, then? “Let’s go then, we can order pizza and have a quiet night, if you want?”

“Sounds like a plan,” she accepted. That was good. They started walking, hand in hand, turning around the corner so they could head to his and Gilbert’s apartment. “Is Gilbert there?”

“No, he has a shift until midnight. I think he’s in… obstetrics now. Not sure, to be honest, I lost track a couple of weeks back. Why?”

“Just curious,” she replied, absent-minded. He noticed as her hand kept opening and closing the fastening of the purse and contained himself from asking again. They walked in silence. Not tense, not really… But somehow, full of expectation. His thumb caressed gently the back of her hand, trying to get her at ease. She would say whatever was on her mind soon enough and it would not do for him to push it. He had an idea of what could be that had her in that state, but he didn’t want to get his illusions up too high (and it was either that or the whole opposite, and he wouldn’t go there).

They went into the building, the old lobby completely empty. He stopped there, because he honestly didn’t want to wait any longer and he knew that once in the apartment they would mean business… whatever the business might be. So he stopped and kissed her gently, deeply, trying to convey all the love and calm he could, amazed as he always was at how well they fit together.

“I’ve wanted to do that for two months” he said, and she smiled brightly. “Ready?” They went up the four flights of stairs and he opened the door, letting her in before him. She took off her booties as he kicked his runners off. She looked around. Everything looked the same. More books on the bookshelf, probably, but when didn’t Gilbert have one on hand? He looked at her.

“So?”

“You’re way too impatient,” she said.

“I’m not. I’ve been working on that and I think I’ve improved tremendously,” he said, giving her a pointed look. She blushed again. “Ok, then. Anything to drink?”

“Are there any of those ciders from Gilbert?”

“Yes, let me go grab a couple. Make yourself comfortable,” he said, walking to the kitchen. She went to her usual spot on one end of the sofa and waited for Fred to come back. She took out her phone again.

**Gilbert (10:26): Go for what you want, Ella. Start the conversation. Take the first step. Tell him you’re ready to move in with him… And I promise, you won’t have to explain anything unless you want it. Don’t worry about it 😉

Fred gave her the can and she had a drink, breathing deeply after. He sat close to her, his eyes fixed on her. She played with the cap of the can.

“You’re starting to worry me. Please, spill.”

“I… just don’t know how to say it.”

“Usually the simplest terms work well enough and then we can expand on that. What’s on your mind? Bottom line, not everything that you have around the concept,” he proposed. She looked at him and then back at the can. That new design was good. She had to make sure to tell Gilbert.. “Ella, please? It can’t be that bad, can it?”

“I’m afraid you’ll tease.”

“I promise I won’t. You know I don’t when it’s something important. You can trust me with anything, you know that, right?”

“I do,” she replied. Because she actually knew that. She took a deep breath. “So... I’m ready to move in with you.” Fred looked at her, feeling his heart stop shortly. He looked at her face for any trace of doubt. She looked at him, still worried about his reaction. “Freddie?”

“Ella, that’s… why are you nervous about that? Come here, love,” he said, leaving his can on the coffee table. She scooted over to him and he held her close. They could celebrate later, but right now, he was more concerned about her worries. “What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” Wasn’t he supposed to be happy?

“Look, I’m… ecstatic you want to move in,” he explained, and she could see that was true. “But why are you worried about it?”

“I didn’t know if you’d still want it.”

“You did know. You probably double checked with Blythe just to know if he was still on board,” she chuckled and he knew he was right. Blythe had had a stupid smile on his face for days and he knew it hadn’t been because something special had happened with Charlotte. “Why are you nervous, Ella?”

“My parents,” she confessed. Her parents. Of course. 

“Why are you worried about them?”

“Because I know them, and I know they won’t be happy to have her unwed daughter living with two guys.”

“Do you want to marry then?” he asked tentatively. It wasn’t the order in which he wanted to do this, but he could be flexible for her.

“I understand why you want to live together before that, and I agree. My parents… that’s something else.”

“Well, we will do it one step at a time. Have you told them anything yet?” he asked. She shook her head. “Do you want me to be there?”

“Yes. Because if we’re doing this, we’re doing it as a team, Fred. We… I don’t know how badly they’ll react, but we have to be together for this and show we actually can handle it.”

“Of course. And I agree with you. This is not a play, this is us beginning our lives together and we have to show them this is a decision we didn’t make on a whim but something that’s part of a bigger project. Do you think they might feel more comfortable if they meet my parents?”

“It could be… My dad is convinced that parents pose a great influence. So if they meet yours… That could make sense, actually. Your parents are always super nice.”

“Ok, so let’s propose dinner over the weekend, if you want. That way they have a chance to talk and get to know each other and we can break the news over dessert. You think your parents will be up to seeing each other?”

“That sounds good, yes. I think they’ll manage, they have been on cordial terms and… well, this is important. Dad wanted to come over to see how my first week went… Now that I will be doing the master and being an assistant teacher and all that.”

“You will be brilliant.”

“I’ll have to be, because I have to be able to keep that job in order to pay for my stuff… And if I’m not able to do that, I can’t actually take a step back from my parents.”

“You will. And even if you need to drop it at any point to focus on your studies, we’ll manage. Don’t worry about that. We all have our scholarships and Blythe and I are nerds enough not to lose them, and I know for a fact that he’s all about you concentrating in your studies while you live with us. So…”

“I can’t live off you guys.”

“Well not indefinitely, but if you ever need a semester off work to concentrate on a project, we can manage, I promise. It was actually Blythe’s idea, so… there you have it. And you have the tuition already taken care of. I don’t want you stressing over this on top of your family. We can always come back to this later.”

“Ok. So… That’s our parents and my work. About finances, should we speak with Gilbert about how to split all the expenses?” he nodded, almost seeing her cross things off a mental list. “I spoke with Gilbert, as you suspected… and took the liberty of giving notice at the boarding house. I told them I would be gone by the end of the month, which gives us about three weeks.”

“If it was up to me, we could pick your bags tonight, Ella. You know that. When do you want to come?”

“Not before talking with our parents. But we can start moving stuff here after. Good thing the room is furnished and I don’t have to think about selling any of that,” she said. He nodded and held her close, feeling her sigh against his chest. Three weeks, two weeks… he didn’t actually care. She was soon going to be sharing his bed. He would get to see her fall asleep and wake up. Finally. And then every night and every morning after that. They stayed in silence for a moment.

“Do you feel better now?”

“I do. Thank you, Freddie,” she replied.

“Anytime, Ella,” he replied, kissing the top of her head. She straightened herself and he leaned forward to grab his cider. “You know I’m here to share your worries. We’ll tackle them one at a time.”

“I still believe they’ll hate me.”

“I don’t think they’ll hate you. They might be… disappointed. Or frustrated, because you’re not living up to the future they had envisioned for you. Or sad and angry, because they will have to deal with all this… and it’s a duel of sorts. The question is, love, can you handle this? Is coming to live here worth that?” She stayed quiet for a moment and he drank some, letting her think.

“It’s… I love them, Freddie. I do. But… they’re my past and you’re my future, and I can’t just ignore that.”

“So you’re ready for your parents to feel this way and not have second thoughts about this once they do?”

“Well I will have to manage, won’t I? I’ve thought about moving in with you since the Winter, and I’m fairly certain it’s not an error. I’ll just have to learn to deal with them,” she said. He gently took her can and left it with his on the table, and turned to look at her, caressing her cheek softly. She leaned into his hand, closing her eyes. This guy, over the past four years, had become her friend, her confidant, her lover. Increasingly, her home. And she couldn’t wait any more to be with him.

“Thank you, love. For trusting us with this. I know it’s a huge step and you’re not taking it lightly. I’m so glad you came to this conclusion on your own terms.”

“I just needed time,” she whispered. He nodded, even when he was conscious of how her eyes were still closed. He leaned forward and kissed her slowly, like he knew she liked to be kissed. Slowly and thoroughly, building the deepness and intensity of the kiss moment by moment, her hands going to his hair and pulling him closer. Tasting the tart apples. He ended the kiss as slowly as he started it. She opened her eyes and looked at him, still so close, a mere inch or two away. 

“Stay tonight?” he pleaded, his voice barely a whisper. Please, Ella.

“You know I can’t,” she replied, closing her eyes. He rested his forehead on hers. “One week, Fred. One week and I will be here.”

“What difference does it make?”

“Back at you,” she said back.

“I’ve dreamt of going to bed with you for the better part of the past year. Of waking up and having you close. And I just don’t know how to wait a whole week more. Just tonight. Please,” he insisted, retreating slightly to look at her.

“Freddie… We’ve waited for so long, one week more will go fast. Then no more waiting. I will annoy you every night with my cold feet and you will annoy me with your snores.”

“I don’t snore.”

“You do. Gilbert told me. I don’t mind.”

“Gilbert is a gossip.”

“You are a gossip. And again, I don’t mind.”

“Ok, you don’t mind. Can you… tell me why you won’t stay?”

“House rules. We’ve been through this. And we don’t want them calling my parents and making what will be a difficult situation even worse,” she explained. Again. It was a ridiculous rule, yes, but the house in general was great to live. The food was great, everything was super clean, everything worked like a clock. That they had this one rule- mark the last entry so they knew you were back safe, no matter the time- was not enough to make her go. And well, the no-visitors rule. And the shower-time limit rule. And… 

“Right. You’re right, of course,” he accepted. He sighed. 

They agreed on a Saturday dinner. Everyone was punctual (Fred had given his parents a different time so they would actually be on time), the greetings went well. His mom even managed to get Ella’s mother in a conversation about baking and Ella’s father seemed to be as interested in football as his dad, which was actually a relief. Ella had been somewhat concerned about how the relationship was going to go… she knew her parents to be very particular, and for all she loved Fred’s, they were somehow… too free, too open. Kind of like Fred, but… without his inner control.

“So, Fred, how are the studies going?” The only thing Ella’s father approved of him was that he was studying medicine, and it was a respectable enough profession in his eyes. He thanked he didn’t go through with sociology as had been his other option.

“Great, I began doing rotations in the hospital some months ago… So everything is going a bit ahead of schedule, actually.” Ella sighed, relieved. She knew her dad would approve of Fred being a nerd.

“Any area that interests you so far?” her mother asked.

“Honestly, Mrs. Abbot? It’s between neurology and psychiatry. I just want to understand why people are the way they are. It’s fascinating. I’m counting the days until I get to those rotations, but for now radiology is interesting enough,” he explained. “I suppose I will get more clarity in a few months.”

“That sounds good. Seems like you’re a responsible young man,” Ella’s father commented. He smiled slightly. He did want them to have that image of him. “Ella, how was that first week? Is the master everything you were hoping it would be?”

“Actually beyond what I imagined, Vati. And working with professor Davies is a dream come true. I learn every day and he confirmed to me that I am officially employed by the university, with all the benefits it implies.”

“That’s good, Ella. It’s the least you could do. By the way, you still haven’t sent me the contract for the boarding house for this semester,” he commented. Fred inhaled and felt his dad tilt his head slightly and he knew there was no way or no point in delaying this any further. He tried bracing himself for what was coming as Ella bit her lip for a second and her tiny crease appeared in her forehead.

“About that, Vati…,” she began, and her mother looked at her from the other side of the table, an identical crease in her forehead. “That’s the reason we wanted to have this dinner. See, I have now graduated and have a scholarship for the masters and an actual job… So I’m fairly independent at this point, and we’ve been talking for a few months, Fred and I, about moving in together…”

“Absolutely not,” was Mr. Weiss adamant answer. To what wasn’t even a question, because he had actually cut Ella mid-sentence. Fred tried not to frown and avoided looking at whatever expression his parents had. Ella bit her lip.

“Vater, I’m not actually asking you. We wanted to meet with all of you guys to share our good news,” she replied, trying to keep her voice from wavering. 

“And you call that good news? Ella Weiss take your future seriously!” her mother said. Fred tried counting backwards to see if it would help. He would not interrupt and he would not say a word of what he was thinking.

“I am, mom! Which is exactly why we’re doing this. Look, I’ve finished my undergrad. I have a job. We are not doing this on a whim…”

“Are you pregnant? That’s where this is coming from?” Mr. Weiss interrupted again, his voice even more closed and stern.

“Vati!” she exclaimed.

“Mr. Weiss, I can assure you Ella is not pregnant,” Fred said seriously, leaving no room for doubt. He wanted Ella to make her point but he had limits. And her father assuming things like this was one of them. He thought about saying they were actually taking precautions to prevent that, but that would only add fuel to the fire. “This is a thought-through decision we’ve been discussing since last winter.”

“We have thought this through, which is why we actually waited until now to do it,” Ella said. 

“Mrs. Abbot, Mr. Weiss, I’m sure the kids are able to explain their decision if we allow them to speak?” Erik, Fred’s dad proposed with his gentle voice. He always had the same soothing effect as his son did and Ella loved him for it. Mr. Weiss crossed his arms, as did Mrs. Abbot in a perfect mirror image of habits that still had to die even if they hadn’t lived together for over two years. But they stayed in silence. “Kids?” he prompted, looking at him and Ella alternatively. 

“Fred and I… we share values and projects. We both are serious about this relationship and are not doing this just out on a whim, but because we truly believe it’s the next step for our future together. It is not a decision we made in a day. Fred is right, we have been talking about this since last December and only now it makes sense, because we’re at the point where we both are independent. I’m starting my career and Fred’s been doing great at medical school.”

“We have also discussed the logistics and the different expenses related to her not living in the boarding house but at the apartment,” Fred continued, since her parents were still silent. He wouldn’t mention Gilbert, at least not yet. He had nothing to do with their decision, but he knew her parents wouldn’t really appreciate her sharing an apartment with two men at the same time. “You may not know, Mr. Weiss, but I have been financially independent for about three years now. I have savings as well in case anything would happen, and we’re prepared for Ella to only focus on her studies if it ever comes to that.”

“We honestly have a serious plan,” Ella insisted. Fred’s parents nodded, smiling brightly, and he knew it was because he was always very open with them and had asked for their advice whenever he had needed it. Yes, he had been independent for years, but he couldn’t have done it without their help in the beginning. And because of that, they knew he truly was stable.

“And then if you have a serious plan, as you call it,” Mr. Weiss' voice has thick with skepticism, “why aren’t you both doing this the right way?”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand, Mr. Weiss,” Fred replied, but regretted his words immediately. Shit. The marrying nonsense.

“Do you truly expect that we’re going to let our Ella go and live in sin with two men? Just so you two have fun and then she’s tainted forever?” Mrs Abbot said and Fred actually just blinked in utter disbelief. Ella was in even more shock than he was and his parents didn’t open their mouths. Thank goodness, because that would make everything even worse. Ella’s mom had no business knowing his parents had never done anything more formal than signing a paper some years ago, just because it would be easier to get a mortgage. “I won’t have my unwed daughter spoil her life like this. Next thing we know, she’ll be dropping her studies, doing drugs and pregnant.”

“Mom!” Ella exclaimed, frowning. She had never thought this chat would be easy or that her parents would be accepting. But this? Her mother saying things like that about her, like she didn’t know her? Fred looked at her for a moment as she blinked quickly, and he knew she was trying hard not to cry. He turned to face her mother.

“Mrs Abbot, as much as I respect you, please refrain from saying things like that about Ella,” he said firmly. Because he would just not have anyone disrespecting her. Not even her mother. “She’s not getting tainted, as you say it. She’s making informed choices about her life using her best criteria, and you disregarding everything she is, everything she has accomplished just so she fits an arbitrary stereotype won’t help. We’re young, yes, but we’re both adults and responsible ones at that. Ella will finish her studies the same as I will get my degree. We don’t do drugs. If we ever want a child, it will be because we want to have one and that will only happen when we both are ready. Under our terms.”

There was a tense silence after that and he held Ella’s hand under the table, caressing the back with his thumb, trying to calm her a little bit, at least. His parents exchanged a look and then looked at him and he made the tiniest gesture he could. They would be ok. But they needed to solve this first. Her mother made to leave and Ella stopped her.

“Mom, stay here. You’re not leaving this conversation half-way. We came here to share our decision, and while we know it’s not the one you would have made, we still want your support. Please, stay,” Ella said, looking up at her. She sat back down. “Look, I understand where you both are coming from and the worries you have. But at the end of the day, I’m still your daughter. That I’m ready to start living my own life should make you proud, not angry. I still have the same values you both taught me. I’m still the same person. Just starting a bigger project. And I would like you to be part of it.” And Fred did all he could not to kiss her proudly. This was his girl.

“Well, it looks like you have everything figured out and you really don’t need us, Ella,” her father said, the hint of sarcasm all too evident for Fred. He squeezed her hand in reassurance. It was probably the best they would get out of him for a while, until he grew more comfortable with the idea.

“I will always need you, Vati. Probably more than ever. We don’t even think it will be easy to live together. But we’re willing to learn from our mistakes and to be strong together. This is actually happening,” she explained, smiling softly. Mr. Weiss nodded and Fred relaxed slightly. Her mother was still seething.

“We are overjoyed, kids. It truly makes us happy that you’re taking the next step and we know you both will make all of us proud,” Fred’s mom said, her warm smile going all the way to her eyes. His father nodded approvingly. “And you’re right, Ella. You will never stop learning and growing. If you ever need anything, you both can come to us. We’re more than happy to listen.”

“Thanks, mom,” Fred said. Any support was good at this point.

“I can’t say I approve of any of this,” Ella’s mom insisted. “But it seems like you’re going to get through with it either way and I will find a way to live with it. I just hope one day you’ll find it in yourselves to rectify this error and be joined as God intended.”

“Thank you, mom,” Ella said, because what else could she say?

Blythe was, of course, with his nose in a book when they got home back from the dinner with their parents. They had taken a bus back, not really wanting to share a car with any of the parents, and were glad to be back to the apartment. He closed it as they opened the door and stood up, looking at them expectantly as they took off their shoes. 

“I thought you were with Lottie,” Fred commented.

“I was, she just has a 10k tomorrow so she wanted to go to bed early,” he explained. Fred nodded. He had the feeling something wasn’t quite right but hadn’t been able to put a finger on the issue. “So? How did it go?” 

“My parents are mental,” Ella said, going directly to the kitchen to boil water to distract herself. She didn’t want to dwell on the conversation. Gilbert looked at Fred, his eyebrows questioning. “You guys want tea?” She asked from there.

“I’m having a cider, Ella, thanks,” Gilbert called. “She’s ok?” he added in a lower voice.

“She was, let me just check,” Fred replied before going to the kitchen, where she was standing looking at the kettle.

“Are you ok, love?” he asked, concerned.

“Yeah,” she reapplied. “Just tired of the day. So, tea?”

“Sure, why not. Do you want to tell Gilbert the details, or you’d rather keep it quiet?” he asked, tentatively. 

“I think talking would be nice,” she replied, smiling softly, so soon they were back in the living room and Gibert was putting away his book and looking at them, apparently not knowing if it was ok to talk or not. “My parents are mental. They think I’m ruining my life by living in sin with both of you and that I will end a pregnant addict.”

“You’re kidding,” Gilbert replied, stupefied.

“She’s actually not. Those were… Kind of her mother’s words.” Gilbert looked at them, eyes wide, eyebrows up.

“So…?”

“So I’m going to live in sin, but I’ll prove them how I can do that while keeping sober and not making them grandparents,” she replied, to which Gilbert laughed. Fred as well, shaking his head at how absurd everything sounded, especially away from the heavy conversation, and Ella joined them soon, relieving the stress she had built up over the evening. “I still can’t believe she actually said that. I knew she would think something along that line, but to actually say it in front of your parents?!” she said in between laughs, the situation too absurd.

“Wait, your mom said that in front of Fred’s parents? What?”

“She did. They were stunned,” Fred provided, snickering. “Like, silenced. Completely. Thank goodness, can you imagine my father explaining his views on marriage?” he said before laughing again and Gilbert laughed once more. “They’re more alarmed because Mark is marrying than because Ella is moving in with us.”

“You have to be kidding me,” Ella said, looking at him, still smiling. “When could they possibly say that to you?”

“Text?” Fred shrugged, looking quickly in his phone and showing her the chat.

**Mom @The Right Wrights 🤪 (21:39): Well, since Freddie is all silent, I will share the news! He’s moving in with Ella! Isn’t that great?

**Mark @The Right Wrights 🤪 (21:41): Is that true, Fred? If so, congrats! Ella is great, we all love her 🤗 @Mom, you weren’t this excited when I shared my engagement with Louise 😑 😢

**Dad @The Right Wrights 🤪 (21:39): Because it’s an engagement, kid. You could have paid a nice trip with the cost of that ring. 😎 Plus, you had it easy, here Fred has to prove himself a respectable guy 🤣

“I don’t even want to read more,” Ella said, laughing. “We could probably use one of those group chats, though…”

“What, like for the three of us? Would make sense,” Gilbert said. “What should we call it? Home?”

“You’re boring, Blythe!”

“So, what do you want? We’re not having a name like your family’s, that’s a fact,” Ella said and Gilbert raised an eyebrow. “Haven’t you seen that? They’re called the Right Wrights. Winky emoji and all.”

“Because you haven’t met the wrong Wrights, Ella!” Fred tried defending himself as Gilbert laughed. “I just don’t want something boring…”

“What about Three Musketeers?” Blythe proposed. Ella shrugged, looking at Fred. As long as they had a useful group, she didn’t mind. Fred snatched the book he had been reading and tossed it back to him.

“Really? That’s where your inspiration comes from?”

“They’re a nice group! I’m just saying! And it’s clearly not boring.”

“Ok, Musketeers it is, then!” Freddie said, grabbing his phone again and creating the group. “So, when are we doing this, Ella? Now that we have created havoc in your family and given my parents a reason to tease Mark? When are you saying goodbye to uptight Ms Dalia?” 

“Tomorrow? I mean, she knows I’m going, so it’s not really a surprise… I had kind of assumed that after talking with them, we would carry on with this,” she replied, suddenly unsure about having told Ms Dalia she would be gone before the next week started. Fred hugged her tightly, a huge smile on his face, making her struggle for breathing as Gilbert laughed.

Everything was going to be fine.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoyed the surprise? Did you imagine Ella’s parents were like that? What are your thoughts about Ms. Dalia? Also... don't hate Freddie? He truly did his best effort to learn to be patient 😉

**Author's Note:**

> So... If you're a Let Me In regular reader, we hope this satisfies some curiosity as to how Gilbert spent all those years. About how come he's so close with Fred and why his wife was so eager for the lockdown to end so she could see Gilbert again. And how was their dynamic for years and years.
> 
> Yes, eventually Ella moved in and they all lived together. At some point, they moved to Hamilton, where Gil and Fred would do their respective residencies. Ella went to work for an architecture firm. She and Fred got married and bought a house. Gilbert went to rent a tiny apartment with a sleeper sofa where he would welcome Anne after not seeing her for ten straight years so she could have a place to sleep as a pandemic took over the world. And there you have: now go read Let Me In if you haven't already. It picks up from here. :)


End file.
